Animosity

Chapter 24 - The Door in the Ground

Photo: American GI lifts the trapdoor of a small tunnel, usually intricate and dug out for miles by Viet Cong.

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        A storm was brewing in the air. The clouds, once fluffy and white and full of life, were now dark, somber, forming into angry gray masses that loomed threateningly ahead. Lieutenant Hiro had looked up at the sky with solemn eyes, whispered curses tumbling out of his chapped lips, and had warned us to anticipate rain. Even the jungle seemed to sense the weather's furious grip tightening around the area, and the trees were still and dead as they laid dormant. Everything felt fake, artificial even, and as me and Doc trekked back to the main camp, I tried in vain to hear even the quietest bird's call.

        Shivering, I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders, keeping my stare glued to the leaf-strewn ground as my fingers curled around the heavy material. Thin wisps of fog snaked around my legs, blanketing the forest in a muffled, dense white mass, and I tried my best to keep pace with the blonde in front of me. The tent poles, taken down in a hurry to return to the main encampment, were ladled in his arms, a pile of hollow metal that was cold on his olive skin. We had woken up at practically the same time, shocked at the sudden bipolar shift in the weather, and had rushed to get packed up, eager to get out of the eerie outpost.

        "Doc..?" I called hesitantly, repeating my question when no answer could be heard. "Doc? Do you know how close we are to Ngōc?"

        He cleared his throat nervously, and I could just barely see his tall figure moving swiftly through the fog. "Sorry, Tom. That would be a question for Hiro, not me. I don't keep track of where we are, I just follow everyone's lead."

        Bringing a hand up to my face to wave the wisps of vapor away, I sighed, watching the blonde medic stumble over a patch of particularly uneven grass. I could barely make out the path that was unwinding in front of me, slightly beaten in from years of use. My rubber soled boots stomped down the foliage that was growing over the mossy earth, but I could hardly give it any mind as I struggled to breathe in the humid air.

        Within minutes, we had already arrived back at the camp, struggling to make it up a slight incline and surprised when the fog let up a little at the top of the hill. The others were already wide awake, yawning into their sleeves, swearing as they tried to light a fire, the sparks bouncing off of the ground as the oppressive vapor in the air killed any semblance of flames. Buddy, eyes twinkling and smile radiant, grinned warmly when he saw us emerging from the trees, and shifted his weight from one leg to another as he waved me over.

        His youthful charm was impossible to ignore, and I raked my hair back as I trudged over to him, breeze chilly against my pale skin. He was leaning against a thick, almost fully white birch, and his fingers were steady as they traced patterns into the smooth bark.

        "Mornin', Tommy," he beamed, words quiet and calm. Letting out a tiny yawn, he leaned his head against my shoulder with an exhausted motion, the movement making my faint smile widen. "Pretty awful weather we're havin', huh? I reckon if you stood on top of this hill an' looked down, you couldn't see nearly ten feet below."

        "Sure, Bud," I murmured, reaching up with one scarred hand, curling soft locks of his dirty blonde hair around two fingers. Visions of us as children ran through my head, and I suddenly felt a fondness for the boy, like I was seeing the brother I never had. "We'll stick together, you and me. I've been neglecting you lately, these past few days have been me trying to make all that up to you, alright?"

        He giggled, the sound high and lilting, boyish in nature as he gazed across the camp. "You haven't been neglectin' me, Tom. Shoot, we're both busy, it ain't nobody's fault. ...But, y'know, I'm glad you're lookin' out for me. Means a lot, comin' from you."