The n00b Warriors (25 page)

Dylan nodded. “But that means sometimes you have to stay behind. I needed people to protect the rest of the team, Hunter—did you consider that?”

Hunter shook his head.

“You’ve seen action, and you’re a heck of a shot—better than me. I’m the leader of this company, and I have to decide what people’s strengths are and where to put them. If I put all my best men on an exercise—and a dumb one at that—then who protects the lines? What happened yesterday could have been ten times worse if you hadn’t been there.”

Hunter looked down, unresponsive.

“Right now, you’re my best friend out here—my only friend, now that Trinity is always mad at me for something. I’m not going to ever intentionally hurt you. You got it?”

Hunter nodded reluctantly. “What happened with you and Johnny? He’s hardly talking, and Trinity is worried.”

Dylan motioned Hunter closer and said in a hushed voice, “Don’t tell Trinity this—don’t tell anyone—but Johnny is all talk. He froze up when it came time to fight.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Yeah. So are we good?”

Hunter sighed, but said grudgingly, “Yeah, we’re good.”

Dylan clapped him on the back and walked back to Trinity and Johnny. “Johnny, let’s go.”

“Where?” he replied nervously.

“Got replacements coming in. You’re coming with me to help pick them out.”

As they began the five-mile walk to HQ, Johnny said, “Thanks for not telling Trinity what happened.”

“What did happen?”

Johnny shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ve always pumped myself and told myself I was ready to fight—ready to die even. I guess I’m not.”

Dylan stopped walking, pulled out his gun, and aimed it at Johnny’s head. “Then I guess you die now.”

“Stop messing around,” Johnny said nervously.

Dylan looked around. It was surprisingly quiet, and no one was around; he imagined they were all getting ready for the big show in the sky that Tommy had promised. A Jeep with a team leader passed by them, but then the area was empty again. Dylan reflected, “It’s perfect, really. I just tell people you died when a bomb hit you. Do you really think anyone would doubt it?”

“This isn’t funny.”

Dylan nodded. “Neither is how you acted with me and Sanchez—we could have died because you were a coward. The way I see it, you’re just getting in the way, and if I kill you, then you can’t exactly do that.”

Dylan pushed the gun barrel against Johnny’s temple. Tears spilled out of Johnny’s eyes. “Come on Dylan, don’t do it.”

Dylan laughed in scorn and released the gun. “You don’t even try to say you’ll do better—that you’ll fight?”

Johnny cried, “I don’t know if I can—you’re right, I’m a coward! I’m all talk. Is that what you want to hear?”

Dylan shook his head. “I want to hear that you’ll fight—that you’ll protect Trinity. There’s not a lot else that matters to me.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to her if I could prevent it?”

“I don’t know—like you said, you’re a coward. You’d rather get her pregnant than defend her.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Fight.”

Johnny closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Because next time we’re in battle and you don’t, I will put a bullet through your head. Got it?”

Johnny nodded.

Dylan started to walk off without him, but Johnny ran to catch up. “I know you don’t think anything of me, but for what it’s worth, you’ve earned my respect—I owe you my life. I should have died when those Cocos ambushed us.”

Dylan didn’t reply.

“I still think we can escape,” Johnny added a few minutes later.

Dylan turned on him. “Johnny, if you want to escape, then now’s your chance. Just leave—right now. I’ll tell everyone that you died. No one will question it. No one will miss you.”

Johnny looked around and appeared to be considering it, but finally replied, “It’s not the right time.”

Dylan snorted. “It’s the perfect time! I guarantee you that if you leave right now, not a single person will come looking for you.”

“What do you have against escaping?”

“Am I not being clear right now?” Dylan asked, irritated. “I’m giving you permission! What more do you want?”

“You could go, too. We could get Trinity and Hunter and anyone else who wants to go.”

“I’m protecting my company the only way I know how—by fighting.”

“You’re just what the Army wants you to be—a robot soldier.”

Dylan shrugged. “And what are you? I gave you the chance to escape being a robot soldier, and you’re too afraid to take it.”

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Dylan’s ten new recruits from Company A were young and excited to be in such a place as Seattle. Unlike Company D, they were the jocks of the Army. They’d actually had real basic training, which included what was essentially brainwashing to believe the most hellish battlefronts were the best ones. Dylan looked them over with pity. Sanchez had joined them for the walk back, and stood bored, waiting for Dylan to finish up.

“War is hell,” Dylan stated to his men. “If you remember how to hold your gun and shoot, you stand a good chance of not dying too quick. Let’s move out.”

“Not quite as passionate as your first speech,” Johnny said as they started walking back.

“Can’t believe you’re even letting this guy talk after what happened.” Sanchez said. His eyes were red, and Dylan guessed that he had spent some of his time off drinking.

“I’m forgetting about that, and you are, too.” He paused and added, “But if it happens again, I’m giving you permission to shoot him between the eyes and put him out of his misery.”

“Yes, sir!” Sanchez pulled off Johnny’s sunglasses and put them over his own eyes. “I’m claiming these—consider it the cost of me not putting a bullet through your head.”

Dylan looked back at the new recruits, who were following at a distance. The closer they got to the trenches, the slower they walked. They nervously stared at the black smoke in the distance—smoke Dylan, Sanchez, and Johnny had not given a second thought to. Dylan looked at Sanchez and said, “I want all of these men ready to fight come nightfall—you got rested up last night, so I expect you to work extra hard tonight.” He noticed Johnny was now stopped and staring into the distance, and he asked, “What’s up? Why are you stopping?”

Johnny squinted. “Who’s that coming at us?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan said. The figure was too far away, and he could only make out that the person had long hair.

Dylan continued to stare until the figure cried out “Dylan!” and began to run towards them. It was Trinity’s voice—he started to run.

“What are you doing? It’s not safe out here!” Dylan said in a panic. Before he could even think about holding back, Trinity was in his arms, crying. He stroked her hair and felt blood. “Is this blood yours?” he asked, horrified.

She nodded and tearfully explained, “It was awful. A medic came from the company next to us. We were completely out of supplies, so I went with him a few hundred feet over—he said they had extra.” She began to cry harder. “Cocos were waiting for us when we got there. They killed him! I just barely got away.”

Dylan squeezed her harder and said, “You’re safe now.”

She shook her head. “What about the supplies?”

“We’ll get them another time—we need to get back,” he said as he painfully let go of her.

“But then he dies for nothing
—
I can’t return without medicine. There are too many people waiting for me to bring it back.”

Dylan rubbed his forehead and nodded. He turned to Sanchez. “You and Johnny get the men back to the trenches and get them trained—I expect there’ll be fighting tonight.”

Sanchez nodded. “And you?”

“There was medicine stockpiled at the HQ. They can spare it, and we’re going to get it.”

Dylan and Trinity quietly walked back toward HQ. Trinity paused when they passed a sign that said “Interlaken Park.” She looked at the burned pieces of trees; it still smelled of ash, and much of the park was completely burned away. She walked to the remains of a tree that had fallen over and sat on the trunk. “Sit with me,” she said to Dylan.

He followed her and asked quietly, “Are we officially real soldiers now?”

“I guess.”

“Doesn’t feel any different.” A bomb exploded nearby. Neither of them flinched. “I guess that’s the difference—none of this shocks us anymore.”

Trinity turned to him and said seriously, “I know something happened with you and Johnny out there.”

Dylan looked down and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Trinity.”

“He’s different—distant. He’s like you.”

Dylan raised his head. The steeple of the church they had passed coming into the city was not far in front of them. Dylan looked at it curiously and asked, “How can you still believe—after all of this?”

Trinity smiled. “God never said it would be easy.”

“Did he say anything about how it was okay to slaughter the innocent?”

“It’s war,” she replied.

“That just doesn’t always do it for me anymore.” He paused, thinking. “Sometimes I feel like I know that it’s wrong—I know it—and I think the right thing to do would just be to accept death and not fight anymore.”

“A soldier came to our church once and told us about how he killed all these little kids—kids—and he had to do it because they were shooting at him. But when he went to sleep that night, he just couldn’t rest. He pulled a pocket Bible his grandma had given him before he left and read the verse, ‘We have all sinned and fallen short of the grace of God.’ I just keep thinking to myself that God’s going to forgive me.”

Dylan kicked a rock. “It has to be hard for you—I hate what I do, but I don’t have to answer to anyone.”

Trinity looked at him sadly, but didn’t say anything.

He took her hand and squeezed it. Softly, he said, “I don’t know how, Trinity—but I swear to you, somehow I will get you out of all this, and you’ll have your entire life to make amends for everything.”