Isolation & Fear (Damned of the 2/19th Book Seven)

Epilogue

Vietnam
1968
Night

Tracers lit up the sky, and I could hear Sheridan tanks firing flechettes danger close at anything that moved. I could hear yelling, some American voices, some Vietnamese, some just screaming in agony.

You couldn't tell nationality by screams. They sound the same.

The truck I'd been in was burning behind me, the smell of scorched metal and blood; burning blood, oil, paint, rubber and fuel. The screaming had stopped.

I reached forward, grabbing a chunk of broken asphalt and pulling myself forward, leaning to the side to avoid ripping up the intestines that had spilled from my torn up guts that I was holding in the crook of my other arm. I retched, pulled myself another foot, and looked at my goal.

Spec-Six Wilson was still where the mine had thrown him. He hadn't had a chance to get up when we'd been raked with AK fire and some fucking gook has thrown a goddamn grenade into us before following it up with running up and bayoneting the ever living shit out everyone, living or dead.

I'd managed to kick his legs out from under him.

Not the smartest thing to do when he was stirring my guts around with his bayonet.

I'd still killed him. Climbed up him and chewed off part of his face while I strangled him with one hand, my other hand holding his knife back after he'd stabbed me deep in the side, the knife grating off my hip bone. I'd grabbed the knife when he'd dropped it, slammed it into him balls, and yanked up, dumping his guts all over me.

It had taken me a little bit to separate his yellow intestines from mine. I didn't want some yellow skinned buck toothed slant eyed gook's intestines touching mine.

Another foot.

I refused to die in this goddamn country. I refused to let some slant eyed rice patty shitting Communist gook kill me in this open cesspit.

Another foot.

I heard Puff the Magic Dragon let loose and grinned, knowing blood was running down my chin. Hope those slant eyed bastards like eating all the lead he could pour out.

Wilson's aid bag was half under his body.

Goddamn it.

I leaned to the side to push at him and groaned as I felt my guts push out further. There was a splat sound that made me flinch.

Another loop.

Dammit.

I heard the big 155's roar overhead as I pulled Wilson's aid bag out from under him and let him go.

His eyes were open, but since he was missing a leg and the back of his head, I don't think he was looking at me.

I rolled on my back, staring up at the night sky.

Tracers were lighting it up, and I saw Puff cut loose with a solid bar of light.

Eat that, zipperhead fucks.

I coughed, then looked down.

Oh, God, it was worse than I thought.

My guts were slippery pushing them back in.

do you want to live?

Magazine Platoons Operation and Command Tent
Grafenwöhr
US Army Training Area
Training Site 22
2/19th Company Area
West Germany
25 February, 1988
0000 Hours

The voice woke me up from the dream and my hands went to my gut. The pain was intense, gnawing at my guts. I propped myself up with my elbow, wiping my forehead with my elbow, my hands shaking from the memory.

I looked around my tent and went still when I saw a pair of eyes staring at me. Bright green eyes with cat pupils. They blinked slowly and my eyes focused better in the dim light.

Hannah Lane put her fingers on her lips in a shushing noise.

She was crouched down, in full BDU's, staring at something just over me. She licked her lips, smiling.

do you still want to live?

Oh shit. That voice again.

I was still staring at Hannah Lane, no, that was full blown Aine, as she leaned forward, putting her palms on the floor of the tent and moved forward slowly, her eyes glowing and intent. She licked her lips.

you made a bargain with me

Go away. You were my imagination that night.

Aine crept closer, her eyes getting brighter.

you are mine

I'm nobody's.

I own your

Whatever he owned vanished as Aine made a snatching motionYOU DARE NOT!  that ended with her slapping her hand over her mouth. She started chewing, the voice started screaming. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin, lifting her chin. Black shadows started running from under her hand as her eyes rolled back like she was orgasming. She swallowed and I saw something large distend her throat as it slid into her belly.

She smiled at me, licking her lips and I froze.

Oh shit.

She moved forward, sniffing at me, then made a weird chirruping noise. She licked my cheek, making my skin burn and rage well up in my chest.

She whirled around and scampered on all fours out of the tent.

Fucking Stillwater and his goddamn weirdos.

I made a mental note to call him and yell at him in the morning, rolled over, punched my pillow, and ignored the burning in my guts.

Feral luminous green eyes stared at me in my brain as I went back to sleep.