Second That Emotion
by Latikia
Copyright © 2006
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 my position.
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 Sparky? 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 there. 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
‘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. “Kahlil Gibran? 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
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.’
“Do I still understand that?”
‘You do. But you’re afraid. Not of much, but always of that. Physical
pain doesn’t scare you as much as having your heart broken.’
“I don’t want to be alone.”
‘You don’t have to
be. Right now you’ve chosen to be
alone. You can choose not to be, when
you’re ready.’
“I’m in love now. I guess I have been for years and didn’t recognize it.”
‘Yes. I might not agree with who you chose to love, but it’s the love that’s important. You’re capable of so much love. But behind each and every love, pain and
suffering lie in wait. That’s just the
way it is. You have to accept that and keep loving, or you don’t and stop. And if you stop, you die. Don’t stop, baby. Don’t ever stop.’
Pick ‘em up, put ‘em down…
In the back of my conscious mind I heard the two Iraqis muttering softly. I slowed my pace, which at that point wasn’t much more than a steady walk, and looked at them.
I linked with the pair. They were alarmed. I scanned around us quickly, bringing the AK up to hip level and shifted the safety to semi-auto.
I heard movement ahead. Not a lot, but definitely movement. And very faint voices. I could also make out a corona of light. There was a force of troops ahead.
I hushed the two soldiers with me and indicated that they should dig trenches to lie in. I helped them dig and when they were down and as comfortable as they were going to get, I pressed a finger to my lips.
“Keep quiet, guys. I’ll check out what’s ahead and come back for you.” I have no idea if they understood me or not, but they nodded. I sent calm and reassurance down the link to them, trying to relax their fears. Spread the ghillie suit over their position, I tried to give them as much cover as I could. I stood up and started moving towards the sound of troops.
I stepped softly and quietly, taking my time, making as little noise as I could. The ground level rose up slightly, making each step a little more painful and awkward.
I crested the rise and went to my belly and inched along until I could see over the top. Below me, about two hundred yards out was a military encampment. I recognized the cluster of Bradley APCs and Humm-Vees. I’d finally found my way back.
Now all I had to do was get in there without getting shot again.
I scanned the area, looking for their night guards. After about ten minutes I figured I’d spotted them all. Six men standing watch around the outer perimeter. There was a small blind spot I might be able to work my way thru, if I was patient and took my time. I began inching my way down the slope on hands and knees. I started broadcasting calm and confidence like an AM station on steroids. Nothing to worry about out here. Nothing to be the least bit concerned about. Ignore that lump on the ground; it’s only a patch of scrub.
Two lifetimes later I was inside their perimeter. I stood up slowly, the pain in my side bringing tears to my eyes. Glancing around, I spotted their water truck and headed for it, limping badly.
“Holy fucking shit!” a voice off to my right exclaimed loudly. A thirty-something sergeant was staring at me as if the devil himself had decided to pay a house call.
“Water.” I rasped. My throat was dry and my tongue slightly swollen.
He brought his M-16 up finally and aimed it at me.
“Don’t you move! Captain! CAPTAIN!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. This fella could make some noise.
I was suddenly the center of attention. There must have been fifteen men surrounding me, all with weapons charged and pointing at my tired, aching body.
“What the hell is going on?” a commanding voice demanded.
A youngish looking captain pushed thru the circle of men and came face to face with me.
“Sergeant Ike Blacktower, captain.” I croaked out hoarsely. I gave him my unit and the Colonel’s name. Told him I was reporting back in from a field mission. Told him I wanted a goddamn drink of water. I took off my floppy brimmed desert cammo hat and ran a dirty hand thru my filthy hair.
“It’s the Ghost!” someone hissed to his neighbor.
I really dislike that name. But maybe just once it would work to my advantage.
A teenaged private brought me a canteen cup filled with water and I drained it quickly and asked for another. When that one arrived I sipped it slowly and splashed some on my face.
I remembered my buddies lying in their holes.
The captain had sent his radio man to contact their command about my arrival. I got his attention.
“I have to go back out for a little bit. I left two Iraqis out there waiting for me. I’ll bring them in. Don’t anyone get trigger happy and start shooting when we get back, okay?”
I finished the water, handed the cup back to the Private, and headed out into the dark.
I found my guys without too much trouble and brought them back with me. They were scared, of course. In their place who wouldn’t have been, surrounded by anxious men with weapons who were obviously not all that happy to see them?
“Captain, get these men some water and something to eat, would you please? And go easy on them, huh? They surrendered to me. Anything happens to them and I’ll come back here and skin your entire command with a nail file.”
The officer smiled and nodded. “They’ll be well cared for, I promise.”
“Good. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I could really use a medic.” I slid to the ground and passed out.
I vaguely remember the sounds of a helicopter and people asking me stupid questions. I moved in and out of consciousness, sometimes knowing where I was, mostly not.
‘Come home Ike.’
‘Stay on your path, boy. There’s nothing for you down the one you’re
on now.’
‘Remember us with
love, not sorrow.’
‘Life is love, and pain is part of both.
Don’t be so afraid of the pain that you throw away life and love.’
“I won’t forget…”
I slept for a few days, hooked up to bag after bag of antibiotics. On alternating odd hours they’d toss in some plasma just for color. A doctor told me later that they’d found bone fragments inside my hip wound and that’s what had caused the infection and most of the pain. He was curious and hinted strongly that he’d like some details. I wasn’t much interested it telling him or anyone else about my little ‘adventure’. So I didn’t.
Lt. Colonel Erickson came by to see me just before I was evac’d out to
“Hey colonel. Did Lt. Bakr and his pal make it back okay?” None of the intel people who’d been in and out bugging me with questions had been willing to talk about our mission or how it had worked out. They just wanted answers to their questions. ‘Quid pro quo, bubba. Get used to it.’
“They did. Caught the very first chopper sent in at the primary and got out without a hitch.”
“Good. The Lt. promised to buy me a drink when I got back. I’ll bet that’s not going to be easy to do in this country.”
“No, but I’m sure, being a good Marine, that he’ll figure something out.”
“Yeah. Colonel, how long was I out there? No one seems to think I need to know anything. Either that or they’ve been ordered not to talk to me.”
“Ghost, you were out there for six days. We’d pretty much given up hope you’d make it back.”
“Don’t feel too bad about that, sir. I nearly gave up a couple of times myself.”
“You’ve been recommended for a Silver Star. I think you’ll get it, but the Army will never let you wear the thing. This was the kind of operation that CIA units usually perform. The Army hates admitting to ‘black bag’ ops even being necessary. You also have two Purple Hearts coming to you. Those they’ll allow you to wear.”
“Terrific. I forget to duck and that I can have medals for. Keep ‘em colonel. I already know how lucky I was. I don’t need to advertise.”
“Alright. There is one more thing…the letter you gave me. I mailed it the day before you came back. We had to list you as MIA. I’m sorry. I hope there wasn’t anything in there that can’t be taken back.”
“No, nothing like that. Don’t sweat it. It was only a couple of lines to my sister, saying good-bye. I’m sure she’ll forgive me for it.”
There was an awkward pause. “That was truly amazing, what you did, you know? Men with years of specialized training might not have been able to do what you did. You should be proud of what you accomplished.”
“I don’t think so. I survived, which is what I set out to do. There’s nothing very special about that. That I killed a lot of men in the process of staying alive…I take no pride in that either. The only things I am proud of are that we accomplished what we set out to do, Lt. Bakr and I, and that I didn’t kill the two men who surrendered to me. That more than anything.”
“You know they’re sending you to
“Yeah.”
“After that you’ll be sent to Walter Reed in D.C. for evaluation.”
I got the impression the Colonel was trying to tell me something important without actually coming out and saying it.
“Let me guess…during the initial interrogation of the two men I brought back, they said something to the effect that I’d lost my mind and was talking to myself.”
“Something like that, yes. The medics who treated you on the chopper back here too. I’ve seen wounded men become delusional, it’s not uncommon. In your case, not only were you wounded, the wounds got infected. On top of that, because of your lack of pigmentation, you ended up with some second degree burns and sunstroke. The doctors here think you may have to be medically retired.”
Well, what do you know about that?
“I see.”
“You don’t seem too upset at the prospect.”
“I’m not. Not that I haven’t had a really great time over here and all, but on the way back I had a lot of time to think about what I’ve been doing with my life. That’s what all the talking to myself was about. That and forcing my body to do what had to be done.”
The Colonel nodded his understanding.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do something like this again. I damn sure don’t want to. Killing has gotten far too easy for me. So if the Army wants to retire me, I think I can live with that.”
“I understand your reasoning. It is a shame though, from my perspective. I hate to lose a man with talents like yours. Makes my job that much more difficult. I want to wish you the best, Ghost. You did a damn fine job.” He reached down and clamped his hand on my upper arm.
“Thank you, Colonel. Tell the guys I said goodbye and good luck?”
“I’ll do that.”