Chapter 12

The sounds of large engines and loud voices hammered their way into my brain and forced me awake. They were all around me; loud and close. I eased my finger inside the AK's trigger guard and moved my thumb over the safety switch. Voices, loud, yelling angry voices. What language? I couldn't make out what language. Was it English?

I'd just about gotten to the point where I really wanted to live and then this had to happen.

Were they leaving or just stopping? Maybe they planned on spending the night here. What time was it anyway? I couldn't check... the slightest movement might attract attention to me.

Yeah, and someone standing in the middle of my back or building a cook fire on top of my head wouldn't.

The morphine had worn off. I could feel the burning threads of fiery pain and throbbing ache spreading across my lower left side. I'm not the most patient of people under ideal circumstances, but the increasing pain and the growing likelihood of discovery started to push me over the edge.

'Fuck'em! Fuck'em all!' I started broadcasting from the depths of my feelings. Every single negative emotion, every bad feeling I'd ever felt, ever experienced; every last one I'd taken from someone else, I pulled them all out and let them spray out from me like water from a geyser.

I heard men screaming, wailing like little babies, falling to the ground and crying like whipped puppies. I climbed out of the ground and took a look around me.

Not mine. Uniforms were all wrong, vehicles were wrong. The sounds were wrong. I started shooting. Quick bursts of two rounds. Link, boom-boom, link, boom-boom, link...

I shook my head to get the slowly falling dirt out of my eyes so I could see who I was killing.

Walking... no not walking, limping, hobbling in an awkward semi-circle trying to find them all. Nobody gets away, no free passes. Teach you fuckers to wake me up...

The AK locked open. Out of bullets already? I pulled the Glock and began firing single rounds. Armor piercing rounds.

I climbed on top of command cars and fired into them; I climbed over an SUV and fired thru the roof into the cab. Got body armor on Sparkey? Let's try a little test.

Oh, shit it hurts.

No. I hurt. It's me that's hurting. Got to keep these things straight or I could end up a basket case. Wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?

I stopped moving. I couldn't see any movement. I couldn't hear any screaming or crying, moaning or whimpering. Just the sounds of motors running. I fumbled a new clip into the Glock then put it back into its holster.

I sagged to my knees, holding one hand above my hip. It felt wet; sticky wet.

I looked around. It's daylight. Late afternoon, but it's still hot and sunny. I was heating up and my exposed face and hands were starting to burn.

Great, because I really didn't have enough problems.

I crawled into some shade created by one of the trucks and took a drink from the camel pack. I opened my canteen and splashed water over my face and hands, to wash off the dirt. Slathered on half of my last tube of sun blocker; cover the face, neck and hands, going half-way up the forearms. Took off my BDU jacket and checked the hip holes. The one in front looked bad; yellowish tendrils haloing out from the bloody blackish center. I couldn't get a very good look at the one on the reverse, but I didn't imagine it looked any better.

'Come on home, honey.'

"I'm trying. I really am trying. But I'm so tired, and I hurt so much."

'You need to come home."

"Okay." I replaced the AK clip with one from one of the dead soldiers. I took a long and relaxing piss against the front wheel of one of the command cars, finished off the contents of my canteen, filled it with water from a canister inside the SUV, injected my self with the last syringe of morphine, took a compass reading and started running. Come heaven, hell or high water I was going home.

Day gave way to evening. I ran on. Evening bled into night. I ran on.

Night. Rockets flew overhead, occasionally escorted by screaming jet engines. I ran on.

Check the compass. Damn, off course again. Correct and keep going.

Night slowly surrenders to morning. I can't run anymore. The pain in my hip is growing worse and worse. It's clouding my thoughts.

'What's wrong Ike?'

"Granddad?"

'Why are you stopping, boy? You ain't done yet.'

"I think maybe I am."

'No, you still got things to do. There are people that need you. You don't stop till you finish what you started.'

"I did what I was supposed to."

'That isn't what I mean, and you know it.'

"I can't help anyone anymore, Granddad. I can't even help myself."

'You're the only one who can. Get back on your path and finish what you started.'

"I can't do it alone."

'You aren't alone. You were never alone, you just thought you were. Open your eyes, boy and take a good look around sometime.'

"I screwed up, Granddad. I really screwed up."

'Yeah. That's life for you; one screw up after another. But every new day is a chance to set things right. Don't let things stay screwed up.'

I couldn't run anymore. I started walking. Head up, eyes open. Morning stepped aside so Day could move to the head of the line. Pick 'em up, put 'em down. Left... left... left, right, left...

I smelled the smoke long before I saw the thin oily gray column rising from the ground. As I got closer I could make out shapes. Three big flat bed trucks and one huge one that looked like it might have once been a missile launcher, all now looking like a giant hand had crushed them in its grip, dropped them like dice on a game board and then set fire to the remains.

I kept walking. The closer I got the more details I could make out. Body parts scattered around the metal corpses, burnt bodies inside the vehicle husks. Someone had been hit hard by 'ground support'.

Movement. I brought up the AK and pointed it in the direction of Movement. Tried to focus my blurry vision. There! Two figures. I linked with both of them.

They were tired. Not as tired as me, but no hint of aggression. Fear, thirst, hunger and hopelessness were the only emotions they could manage. Both held weapons like the one I was pointing at them.

I kept walking towards them. As I closed the distance between us I could begin seeing details. One was taller than the other, maybe five inches more, and about twenty pounds heavier. They looked enough alike to be brothers. Older than me by a few years I guessed, both smaller, one had a fledgling moustache and the other a heavy five o'clock shadow over his entire jaw and upper lip.

I should kill them. Don't wait, don't think about it, just do it, do it, DO IT!

I stopped, with perhaps twenty feet between us. They looked at me, then at each other. One mumbled something to the other and he nodded in reply. They raised their rifles and both hands over their heads.

Just what I needed. '... and miles to go... '

I nodded and gestured with the barrel of my AK towards the ground. They nodded and tossed their weapons away. I motioned for them to follow me, and damned if they didn't.

I stopped when we were a few hundred feet from the burning wreckage and knelt down. I dug my canteen out of my pack and tossed it to them. While they shared the water, I hunted for my remaining MRE bundle. Pulling it out, I tore it open and tossed that to them. While they divvied that up between them, I drank from the camel pack, which was nearing empty.

Sitting in the sun I applied some of my remaining sun blocker to my face and hands then took another drink.

I got up, took a reading with the compass, and started walking. I heard footsteps behind me.

Pick 'em up, put 'em down. '... and miles to go... '

'Ike?'

"I'm coming, Carlie. Where are you?"

'With you, lover, always with you.'

"Don't leave me again!"

'Never. We'll always be with you... we're part of you. But it's time to move on. All of us have to move on. Don't keep us locked up in a memory of suffering forever. Remember us with love. Set us all free.'

"How?"

'Let it go. It wasn't your fault. Nothing that happened was your fault. We don't blame you... stop blaming yourself and let it go.'

"Just like that, huh?"

'Just like that. Don't forget us, my love.'

"Never forget you... never stop loving you."

"And don't forget, there are others out there that need your love too."

I think my two new best buddies thought I was crazy.

I stopped, turned and faced them.

"'Now, Morn, her rosy steps in th'eastern clime

Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl... '" I began reciting in my best bad Shakespearean manner.

They looked at me, then at each other then back at me.

"Don't like Milton, huh? Tough crowd. Okay... how 'bout this:

'My soul gave me good counsel, teaching me to drink what has not been squeezed or poured into cups, what is not raised by the hands nor touched by the lips. Before my soul taught me, my thirst was a faint spark in a mound of ash, which I would quench with water from a pool or with a sip of freshly squeezed juice. Now, however, my yearning is my cup, my burning thirst is my drink, and my solitude is my intoxication; I do not and shall not quench my thirst. But in this burning that is never extinguished is a joy that never wanes.'"

I gave them the hairy eye. They flinched back a bit. I eased up. "KahlilGibran? You don't like him either?"

The shorter man muttered something to his companion. I had no idea what they were going on about.

"Bugger this!" I turned around, took another compass reading and started walking, reciting Ogden Nash... just because I could.

The three of us walked thru the day and into the night. After a few hours, the Iraqi men stopped trailing me and moved up alongside. I guess they figured it was unseemly for prisoners to be following along behind their captor, but they weren't quite trusting enough to step out in front and risk potential land mines. I didn't much care. Follow, lead... just don't get in my way.

I think they may have expected me to stop for the night. I considered it, but they had surrendered to me, so I wasn't overly concerned. I had bigger problems. The wound in my side was causing me more and more discomfort. Hell, be honest. It was slowly killing me and I knew it.

'Baby, it's almost over. Just keep moving.'

"I am, Mom... but it hurts."

'Yes. That's the most important lesson anyone has to learn about life. Living hurts. You were born from my pain. I watched you grow up and that was painful for both of us. Every time you cried, I hurt. When I got sick, it hurt. But I had to go on. For your father, your brother, Izzy... but mostly for you. It hurt so much and for such a long time, but I had to keep going. You never thought anyone loved you but me. I had to keep going until you understood that that wasn't true.'