Off Limits (8 page)

“My ma said my pa was never the same after the big war.”

“Battle fatigue,” Alex guessed grimly. “Even now, I'm getting horrible nightmares that are a part of the symptom pattern. I'm sure I'll have them for a long time afterward. I learned those things in my psychology classes. I like understanding how our feelings run our mind and vice versa.”

“Well,” Jim whispered, “this war is going to do a lot of damage to every man and woman who gets trapped in it.” Looking over at Alex, he added, “We're going to need people like you to help us heal afterward.”

The question was on her lips to ask about Jim's trauma that continued to haunt his eyes and his voice. Alex felt miraculously better. Was it because of the sulfa powder fighting her infection or because Jim had come back safely to her? Sleep snagged Alex, and she told him she was going to rest. This time her dreams were about Jim kissing her, and her kissing him back. The coming days would reveal her future. Would the sulfa drugs halt the infection enough so that she could make it to a marine firebase? Would Jim help her get close to one? Or would she have to try to brave it on her own? The questions were unanswerable, and Alex's torrid dreams turned dark and threatening.

* * *

“How many days has it been?” Alex asked as she leaned against the tunnel wall. Jim sat opposite her as they ate their daily ration of rice.

“Six.” He pursed his lips. “Your wound's doing much better. I don't understand why the infection won't leave.”

Alex felt much improved, with some of her old strength returning after the sulfa drugs had cut back the fever. “Probably debris still in the wound,” she guessed. She continued to run a fever that would spike over a hundred every twelve hours or so. It was at those times, when she grew chilled and began to shiver, that Jim would hold her in his arms. For Alex it was when she felt safest—even happy.

A chill racked her, and she groaned.

Jim looked up and frowned. “The fever back again?”

Upset, Alex nodded and set the wooden bowl aside. She had counted on the sulfa drugs getting her stabilized enough to make it to the marine firebase.

Jim put her bowl away. Shadows showed beneath Alex's glorious gray eyes, and her cheekbones seemed to jut out from her increasingly gaunt face. Jim's conscience gnawed at him more with every passing hour. He had to get Alex to U.S. lines for medical assistance.

“Here,” he offered, “I'll hold you till they stop.”

Alex nodded and gripped the blanket, wishing mightily for a hot bath and a bed to rest upon instead of a dirt floor. But she kept her wishes to herself. Jim was doing the best he could under the circumstances. As he slid over and settled his back against the wall, Alex moved into the circle of his awaiting embrace. He drew the blanket up over her shoulders and gently placed his lanky arms around her.

“There,” Jim sighed, “that's better.” How he looked forward to these rare times with Alex in his arms. The last six days had worked a miracle of sorts upon him. Alex was a fighter, there was no doubt. She never whimpered or complained about the pain he knew she tolerated. When the VC were nearby, she huddled in his arms, face pressed against his damp shirt, trembling, but never uttering a word that might give them away. There weren't many with her kind of courage.

With a sigh, Alex relaxed completely in Jim's embrace. She pressed her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes, the beat of his heart reassuring beneath her ear. “I always feel safe with you,” she uttered tiredly.

Jim whispered, “I feel whole with you in my arms, gal. Ma always said that when I found a woman who made me feel complete, I'd know how she felt about Pa.”

“I like what we have.” Alex laughed slightly. “Despite the circumstances.”

“Yeah, I sure never met anyone like you in the real world.”

Alex nodded. “I'm sorry this happened, but I'm not sorry I met you,” she admitted softly.

“No?” Jim smoothed down strands of her sable hair. Alex's face was waxen and glistening with sweat. He could feel her trembling, but she didn't complain.

“No.”

It was his turn to laugh, only it was a strangled sound that came up his throat. “Gal, I'm a sorry lot in comparison to the men at your college.”

Despite the racking chills, Alex drew away just enough to look up into his shadowed features. The day was waning, the dusk casting a grayish light through the tunnel. Raising her hand, she pressed it against his chest where his heart lay. Risking all the trust they'd built in the last week, Alex said, “Tell me what happened to you, Jim. What was so awful that you think you're the worst human being on earth?”

He looked down at her small hand resting against his chest. Her touch was wonderful, healing. “I—I can't, Alex...you'll think—”

“Hasn't the last week shown you something about me?” Alex demanded softly. “Please, trust me enough to tell me what happened to you.”

The pleading quality of her voice sheared through him. Jim felt his heart mushroom with agony and guilt—and the overwhelming need to tell someone. Slowly he lifted his chin to meet her beautiful dove-gray gaze. “I'm telling you,” he rasped unsteadily, “you'll hate me when I'm done.”

Adamantly, Alex shook her head. She gripped his shirtfront with her fingers. “Trust me, Jim.”

Tipping his head back, he shut his eyes tightly and gripped the hand resting against his chest. “Sweet God in heaven,” he said rawly. Jim cared what Alex thought of him. She was the woman of his dreams. And when he held her in his arms like this, he knew he was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get. Because he was surely destined for hell. His time with Alex was severely limited, he realized, hopelessness dashing his dreams. The stupid dreams of a boy, not a man, he decided sadly. He was falling deeply in love with Alex, but it could never be reciprocated. She was a congressman's daughter, a woman of letters already far more educated than he ever could be.

His mouth growing dry, he released a long, shuddering breath. “Okay, I'll tell you,” he said heavily. And after he did, Alex would hate him as much as he hated himself.

J
im didn't know where to begin. He could only gather Alex into his embrace and feel a trembling begin deep inside him. The taste in his mouth was bitter. Finally, he forced the words out.

“There's a village deep in VC territory that always hid us for a day or two when we came through that area. We'd made friends with the chief and his family. He had a granddaughter—about six years old—who took a shine to me. I always called her Kim, although that wasn't her real name. My uncle has a daughter that age. Her name is Kimberly, and we always called her Kim. Anyway, every time we came to the village, this little girl would single me out, climb into my arms, follow me around. When her ma would come to get her, Kim would start cryin' and want to stay with me. It was the darndest thing. She knew where I hid candy bars, and I'd pack extra for her every time we went on a mission in that area.

“We swung through the area on that last mission about a month ago. But when we got to the edge of the village, somethin' didn't feel right, so our team hung back.” Jim shook his head and stared blankly at the tunnel wall opposite him. “It was just a feeling, an ugly feeling. Lieutenant Breckenridge sensed something was wrong—we all did, but none of us could put our finger on what it was. We remained hidden, and no one knew we were there.

“A couple of men we didn't recognize walked through the village during those hours. We caught sight of Kim and her mother. They looked unhappy, but they were going about their business at one of the cooking fires. I wondered if the strangers were VC.” Jim shook his head. “None of us knew, but we'd been out on the mission for five days and we were hungry. We'd planned to stop at the village, pick up information the chief had promised us, eat and leave the next morning. One of our men—Stein, our radioman—had injured himself pretty badly, and Lieutenant Breckenridge wanted to get him some care. We knew we could get it at this friendly village.

“Finally, the lieutenant gave the signal for us to split up. He decided we'd stay hidden at the edge of the jungle and try to get the attention of some of the people we knew were on our side, to find out if it was safe to enter the village. It was a good plan. I got the job of trying to reach the chief.” His arms tightened around Alex momentarily.

“Then, all hell broke loose. Stein was discovered by one of the strangers at the edge of the jungle. I knew they weren't friendly forces when they dragged him out into the center of the small village. The leader of these strangers, we found out later, was Binh Duc, the regional VC chief. He started shrieking to his men to gather the villagers. About fifty people were rounded up, and Duc took his AK-47 and started beating the old men, trying to get them to tell him about Stein, who was unconscious.

“I saw Duc pick up Kim, and that's when I lost it. I leaped out of the jungle and ran into the village. I yelled at the son of a bitch to let go of the little girl. The VC ducked behind the villagers, using them as shields. I couldn't risk a firefight until Lieutenant Breckenridge got into position on the other side of the village. Duc knew I wouldn't fire into a mass of people. When Duc turned, he smiled at me and put Kim down. Kim didn't know what was going on. She didn't realize Duc would kill her if the chief didn't tell the truth about us.”

Jim shut his eyes, and his voice grew hoarse. “I saw the bastard take a black grenade from his belt. He knelt down, all the while keeping his eyes on me. I had my rifle raised, ready to kill any man who laid a hand on Kim. Duc knew that—” Jim's voice cracked.

Opening his eyes, his voice thick with emotion, he whispered, “Duc put the grenade in Kim's hands and crouched down next to her. I heard him tell her to take the grenade to me. She didn't know what it was. She had no idea it could kill both of us. I watched in horror as Duc pulled the pin, giving us only ten seconds before it would explode. On his command, Kim came running toward me, her hand outstretched with the grenade in it. She was smiling, thinking it was some kind of game....

“I—I screamed at her to throw it away, but she laughed and kept running toward me.” He buried his face in Alex's hair. His arms tightened around her. “I—I didn't have a choice. I—oh, Lordy, if I had to do it all over again... I couldn't run, because Duc and his men had their rifles trained on me. They were all grinning. They knew they were using an innocent little girl to kill me...and they didn't care if she was killed, too.

“I remember standing there frozen, this horror washing through me. I saw the chief's face, I saw his disbelief at his granddaughter carrying that live grenade. No one could yell at Kim to throw it away, because Duc's men would have shot them on the spot. Duc wanted me. Duc used Kim....”

Alex raised her head, her eyes awash with tears. She felt Jim trembling and gripped his shirtfront. His face looked tortured, his eyes alive with grief, anger and desperation. Tears were running down his taut face. “My God,” she breathed, “did you have to—Did you—”

“I shot her.”

Silence fell in the tunnel. Alex sat up, her mouth dropping open. His words fell flat against her ears, and she stared at Jim in horror. He glanced down at her, then looked away as he wiped the tears savagely from his face.

“I killed Kim so that I could live,” he rasped harshly. “My miserable life for hers. She was innocent.” Then he covered his face with his hands and sobbed outright. “She was just a little tyke!” he cried, his voice strangled. “And I loved her! I really loved her. Yet I murdered her!”

With a cry, Alex lifted her good arm and slid it around Jim's hunched, shaking shoulders. He sat curled up, hurting. The sound of his sobs tore at her. She'd never heard a man cry, and this was worse than she ever could have imagined. She eased Jim against her small frame, his head buried next to hers. Tears blurred Alex's vision and her heart mushroomed with simultaneous grief and anger.

Finally Jim stopped sobbing and lay crouched next to her. Alex had lost track of time as she cried with him, cried for the terrible weight and pain he had borne since the incident. Instinctively, she knew it was the first time he'd admitted his atrocity out loud—probably the first time he'd cried for Kim or himself.

“What happened next?” Alex asked, sensing that talking about it would eventually help Jim.

He shrugged. “All hell broke loose. Lieutenant Breckenridge got the drop on Duc's men from another angle and our team killed five VC. Duc faded into the jungle. When the shooting started, I reacted automatically and took cover. Lieutenant Breckenridge found me later, and I was in shock. He knew it. He said he was sorry. All around us villagers were shrieking and crying. I was lying curled up on the ground—I remember getting up and finding Kim's ma. She was weeping and screaming. I—I tried to tell her I was sorry, but what could I say? Words were useless for what I was feeling, for how Kim's ma was feeling.

“The lieutenant said we had to get out of there. With Duc in the vicinity, we were only putting those brave people at further risk, so we left. I remember running late that night, with Duc's forces after us. That's when I fell into this tunnel and busted up my leg. When I woke up, I was real clear about one thing—I'd never fire a rifle again. I was done with killing. I had a lot of time alone to think, to feel. Kim was an innocent victim. I murdered her to save my own skin. And for what? I see her in my dreams. I relive it night after night. Why did I save myself? If I had it to do over again, I'd have run, I wouldn't have killed her. Better to be drilled by a VC bullet than to hurt Kim.”

Alex shook her head and gripped his damp shirt. “No, listen to me, Jim. Kim was going to die anyway. Don't you realize that? I'm not an expert on grenades, but if the pin was pulled, that grenade was going to explode.”