Marker of Faith

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 33

Rattle looked up into the night sky, stars shimmering and peeking through the jungle canopy like little voyeurs, and he drew in a slow, deep breath. The world was alive around him, filled with the sounds of night birds and insects. He crouched behind a crumbling stone wall that edged an ancient, overgrown temple. The Vietnamese guide next to Rattle tensed and put a shaking hand out to silence him.

"Father, we be quiet now. This bad place." The man's eyes glittered with fear as he hunched lower. "No good." He whimpered.

"Lao dốc, I'm not a Father. I was just a brother...no vows yet," Rattle whispered.

"That no matter. You be God man here. Good man, God man," Lao dốc whispered back, bowing his head in reverence.

The wind kicked up leaves around them, the sound like rustling leathery wings, and Lao dốc hunched even further against the wall. Rattle shook his head in exasperation and tightly clutched his M60 rifle.

"I'm no God man, Lao dốc. I'm a soldier now. What did you bring me out here to see? Where's the Viet Cong camp? The Dac Cong? They in the temple?" Rattle looked over his shoulder and tried to spot the other Marines that were with him, hanging back so he could scout out the location before they all went in. It would be a blood bath, and Rattle's stomach clenched at the thought of more violence.

There was so much already. Rattle's soul was stained from all the death he'd seen, participated in, and he said a silent prayer for forgiveness. Rattle was supposed to just be a chaplain, but as the war raged on and he saw his friends and fellow soldiers die, something died inside of him as well. He picked up the rifle and put down the cross. This was war and, for better or worse, Rattle was a soldier.

Rattle searched the jungle again for his backup. The Marines were well hidden, but he knew they were out there, watching and waiting for their chance to spill blood. 

"Damn it, Lao dốc--"

The man grimaced and put his hand over Rattle's mouth. "Please God man, be quiet. I just say there are VC here to get you to see...this very bad place."

The Sergeant had wanted to kill Lao dốc after they arrived, just to tie up any loose ends in case things went south. Rattle had stopped them, but now it might not be so easy to keep the guide safe. Especially since this was a dead end. 

Rattle was about to pull away when he heard a noise that froze his blood. From the edge of the temple a low hiss, like steam escaping from a pinched pipe, echoed out into the jungle, silencing the rest of the world. Inside of the hiss Rattle heard voices, thousands of voices screaming, laughing, gibbering in terror and madness. Another sound carried over the hiss and Rattle's stomach clenched again. A baby was crying, so was a woman; sobbing in Vietnamese and the desperation in her voice spurred him into action.

Rattle peeked up over the wall and saw her. She was tied to a stake at the top of some stone stairs, her infant dangling by one leg from another stake below her. Where had they come from? They weren't there a moment ago.

Shadows welled up from the stones beneath the infant and swarmed over his tiny body. He screamed in pain and terror and the woman flailed against her bindings. She was desperately trying to get to her child, and Rattle heard her shoulder dislocate from the frenzied attempts to break free. More shadows oozed out of the darkness and descended on the woman, and her agonized screams razored at Rattle's soul.

"Oh, God man, they coming. Bad things coming now." Lao dốc clutched at Rattle's arm and started babbling in frantic bursts of Vietnamese; too quick to understand.

The jungle on the other side of the steps erupted with bursts of machine gun fire. Ten Dac Cong -- Viet Cong Special Forces -- soldiers rushed up the steps, screaming and firing at the shadows. What was left of the infant exploded under the barrage, and the woman's body danced and jerked as the bullets tore through her. Rattle jumped up and leveled his M60 to fire at the screaming Viet Cong soldiers, but Lao dốc yanked him back down.

"No, God man," he yelled. "That only way to save her now. They try to help her."

With a deafening roar, the shadows coalesced and swooped over the lead Dac Cong. He fell backwards firing his weapon at the sky as the shadows tore into his body. The rest of the VC tried to retreat, but the shadows were quicker, swarming over the men, rending and ripping them apart in a bloodied frenzy.

"You make the bad things go away now, you are Holy Man!" Lao dốc yelled, pushing Rattle up over the wall just as the Marines came running out of the jungle behind him, their own machine guns booming.

Lao dốc jumped up and shouted at Rattle, "Go, God man, promise me you make bad things go away!"

Before Rattle could stop him, Lao dốc turned and ran towards the Marines. The man waved his arms and screamed for them to stop, but was cut down by a volley of bullets. As a Marine ran by, he kicked the twitching corpse.

"That's for leading us into an ambush, you slope-eyed mother fucker!" The Marine jumped over the wall and ran past Rattle, firing his weapon at the remaining VC. He made it to the base of the steps before he was ripped in half by some unseen force.

The hiss intensified into a bone-jarring vibration that buckled Rattle's knees. Something was calling his name.

It hissed through the bedlam, "Where is your God now?"

Rattle swooned and collapsed on the ground. All around him he saw and heard everyone dying, the gunfire and screams from his Marines and the Viet Cong, but he couldn't move. The night was now alive with death and shadows. Human beings were slaughtered, no difference between sides, no delineation between which was which -- Marine or Viet Cong, just death and pain and terror.

The hiss intensified into a roar, and then there was silence. Everyone was dead...everyone but Rattle. He pushed himself up on shaking legs, looking over at Lao dốc's tattered corpse and then up at the stars. Rattle started screaming.

The old man sat up, the scream locked in his throat, and looked around wildly. He saw Roddy curled up on the floor, his head resting on his arm, and realized where he was. It was the cottage, not Vietnam. It was Portsmouth, but it was another war, another time for pain and suffering...and loss.

It had been years since Rattle had that nightmare. He'd forgotten that night even happened so long ago, but here it was unlocked from his memory; the nightmare made real. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth. It was going to happen again. John, Roddy and Minerva were going to die, and the shadows would make Rattle watch. He'd already lost Lem to the darkness.

The old man remembered Lao dốc and his heart clenched. That man had believed in him, told Rattle he was a good man and that he could make the bad things go away. He died believing that.

"Lao dốc, I'll make the bad things go away. Or I'll die trying. I promise." Rattle looked around the room, a small sob escaping him as he watched Roddy turn fitfully in his sleep.

"Not again!" the old man moaned softly, thinking of his new friends. "I can't watch them die. Please, God, or whatever you are...don't let them die. Give me strength to do whatever it is you have planned.

"I didn't ask to be a Guardian, but that's what's in the cards for me. I'll never be a priest for you again. Just let me be strong enough to fight. I've wasted my life because of that night so long ago." Rattle stood up as quietly as he could on shaking legs and made his way to the door. There were voices in hushed conversation on the other side, and wearily Rattle leaned against the doorframe. Five-oh had finally come back and was having the needed "talk" with Minerva.

The old man couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew the man outside was coming to terms with what was going on now. That was good...everything was falling into place.

Sighing softly, Rattle rested his forehead against the door, waiting for the right moment to interrupt.

"Take your time, Five-oh. We don't have much left to spare, but what we got, it's yours."