Animosity

Chapter 7 - Just a Scratch

Photo: American soldiers dug up an entrance to the Cu Chi tunnels, long underground passageways that Viet Cong soldiers used to move stealthily through the country and kidnap GIs undetected.

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"Heyyyy, Descartes!"

I woke up with a start, not even realizing I'd been asleep, breath coming in gasps as I was startled out of my slumber. Blinking groggily, looking upwards with tired movements, an angry scowl appeared on my face as I recognized the two leering faces above me.

"Up and at 'em, tough guy," Devy snickered, his head directly above mine as he squatted on the dirt beside me. His voice was definitely not the first thing I wanted to hear in the morning, and I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"You overslept, slugger," Hank chimed in deviously, standing up stiffly and nudging my shoulder with the toe of his shined black boot. I swatted his foot away furiously and struggled to sit up from my spot on the ground, groaning as I felt an aching soreness spike through my body. Laying on the rough grass did not agree with me, and I muttered curses under my breath as I stretched, cracking my back.

"Wow Descartes, I knew you were a nature guy, didn't know you loved it this much, huh?" Devy called behind his shoulder as he got to his feet, making his way across camp with a confident stride. Glaring after him, I shot a dangerously fiery look at Hank, who was still kneeling at my side, smug expression on his face. I wanted to reach out and punch him, but I willed myself to stay calm and get up quickly.

The camp was bright by now, the sun beating down on the clearing with unflinching rays of light, and I stood up wearily before stretching my arms out to my sides. A light yawn stole my breath away for a moment before I exhaled gently, fatigue still settling into my senses. I had barely slept the night before, paranoia enveloping my every move, causing me to jump at the slightest noise. My heart sank as I remembered the soldier in the trees from the night before, his curious eyes and the unforgiving barrel of his rifle trained right towards me.

Struggling to push it out of my mind, I noticed that Hank was still in his spot from before, staring at me unsurely while his big bad leader wasn't here. Eyes darkening, I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him with a searing glance.

"Don't you have something better to do than mess with me, Hank?" I spat, and, as if snapped out of a trance, he gave a sharp start before jumping to his feet quickly and bringing a hand up to his forehead in a cloying fake salute.

        "Yes sir, won't happen again, sir," he mocked, before laughing to himself and starting off across the clearing. Rolling my eyes, I looked around the encampment irritatedly and kneeled down to roll up my blanket, flimsy cotton scratching the palms of my hands.

The area was bright, the fire reduced to nothing but powdery ash, the cloth sides of the tents rippling in the cool breeze that was coursing through the air. Lieutenant Hiro emerged out of his tent, yawning softly, tugging his jacket on over a plain white T-shirt. He looked energized, well-rested, and he gave Hank and Devy a small smile as they passed by. The two men, talking happily between each other, began taking down the hooches, twisting the metal poles apart and throwing them into a pile on the ground.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Doc and Buddy popped out cheerfully, remains of the already broken-down tent wrapped up carefully in their arms. Doc adjusted the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose with one slender hand, and his younger companion muttered something to him that made him nod profusely. Across the expanse, Lt. Hiro gave them a short wave.

"Hey there, Tom," Buddy called over to me, the tent sheet billowing out like a parachute in his hands as he crouched next to my spot on the dirt. His eyes widened a little before he quickly tried to revert them back to normal. "Jesus H, you ain't lookin' so well."