Cold Hatred (Book 2 & 3 of the Damned of the 2/19th) -Updated and Rewritten

Cold Hatred Part: 4

"God didn't care about Alfenwehr, or anything or

anyone on it. So we had to care for each other.

And sometimes the price was almost too heavy to bear."

Chapter Four

2/19th Special Weapons Group

Restricted Area, Alfenwehr Mountain, West Germany

Late Winter-January 1986

Day 10 of Repairs

Day 2 of the Second Incident

Bomber and I had carried my cousins to their rooms, Cass half conscious and James leaning on Bomber while singing Dolly Parton's Jolene softly. Stokes had left the room just as we'd carried them off, complaining she'd had a bit too much to drink. We'd poured both of them into bed after helping them strip naked, then tucked them in nice and tight. They'd both feel like hell in the morning after trying to keep up with Stokes, Bomber, Nagle, and me since the four of us had our 2/19th gifted alcoholic's tolerance.

Afterward we went into the room, each grabbing a chair and picking up our glasses. Bomber's had Jose Quervo and Mountain Dew in it, mine had Wild Turkey and Coke, while Nancy was sipping a vodka and orange juice as she watched for a long moment.

The tension built for a long while, almost palpable in the room, until Nancy opened her mouth and Bomber blurted out the question he'd been holding back.

"What's with the tattoos?" he asked. Nancy closed her mouth and looked at him.

"What tattoos?" she asked.

Bomber waved at me, turning slightly to talk to Nancy. "That tattoo on his left shoulderblade, his cousins have almost the exact same tattoo."

Nancy looked up at him, then over at me, taking another long sip off her screwdriver. "Which tattoo?" she asked.

"The one on his shoulderblade. Christ, don't you listen?" Bomber asked. He shook his head. "It's that weird rune-like thing, runes above, and runes below." He shrugged. "Ant here has a black bar on the bottom of the big rune with more little runes below it."

Nancy nodded. "OK, I've seen that. His cousins have it too?"

Bomber grabbed the bottle of Jose and poured a few glugs into his glass before grabbing the Mountain Dew can, opening it with one hand to top off his glass as he spoke. "Yup. Same place, same center rune, except they don't have the black mark."

"Guys, I'm right here," I said.

Nancy glared at me. "Fine. What is it?" she asked.

...nasty boy, stupid boy, should have drowned you at birth, born a faceless monster...

My hand was shaking as I lit a cigarette. "All the boys in the family have that mark," I told them, closing my eyes.

 My stomach churned at the thought of telling them, telling them all of it. I could hear my mother's voice, feel her hands on me, pushing me face first into a sink full of water to remind me that boys keep their mouths shut.

"Ant," Nancy said, pulling my attention to her. She'd gotten up and was now standing in front of me. She reached down and grabbed my chin, holding me gently. "I saved you. You owe me. The Sergeant Major told me that I own you now by blood. Tell me."

Instinct, ground into me by tradition and my place in the world, made the words come tumbling out. She'd saved me, she owned me, by law, by tradition, and by blood.