Animosity

Chapter 26 - The Enemy

Photo: American soldier carries an allied South Vietnamese infantry member on his back.

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        The rain had stopped some time during the night, thunder quieting and lightning drawing back through the clouds until all was still. It was perfectly quiet, overwhelmingly peaceful when I woke up, breathing heavy as my body was drenched in a cool sweat. Tugging at my collar, I swallowed the small lump that had formed in my throat, turning my head slightly to look at the Lieutenant as he slept soundly next to me. Eyes gracefully shut, blanket drawn over his broad figure, I noticed his chest rise and fall in rhythm. A bird called outside, breaking the silence, and I rubbed my eyes blearily as I sat up.

Soft light spilled through the thin cloth that cloaked the frame of the tent, and I reached a hand out to touch it, rough fabric meeting my fingertips. The air was warm inside, but a slight cold breeze wafted in through the break in the entrance, and my stare roamed around, searching for my jacket. I was wearing nothing but a thin pair of dark pants and a tee shirt, and having an extra layer of clothing between my body and the wind would make a world of difference. Spotting it piled up against the back wall, I grabbed it swiftly, tugging it on as I realized with dismay that we were almost out of clean laundry.

I took one last look at interior of the tent, treading carefully as to not wake Hiro up, shuffling softly over the ground. Reaching out, I pushed the cloth flaps aside and ducked out nimbly, yawning into my fingers. It was chilly outside, the sky tinged with a bright white glow, occasional drops of water dripping down from the ceiling of the cave. The trees swayed slightly in the morning breeze, drops of dew rolling off of lush, waxy plants that looked freshly grown in the aftermath of the rain. The rocky floor, as far back as we were, was completely dry, although the earth outside was muddy and lined with foot-deep puddles.

Tugging my shirt down, I turned around to step forward before I heard a soft, muffled sound. In the relatively quiet morning, the noise was out of place, and it took me a while to register what it was. ...Someone was crying.

Eyes widening, my gaze swept over the inside of the cave, vision struggling to adjust to the strange brightness that enveloped the fields beyond our shelter. At the edge of the cave, someone was hunched over, knees tucked into their chest, head buried in their arms. My heart instantly sank, and I cautiously walked forward, goosebumps rising on my arms in the chilly air. Stopping just ten feet away from him, I was taken aback with the realization of who it was, dark, curly hair falling over his uniformed sleeve.

It was Devy. Doubled over, sobbing quietly into his jacket, he was almost unrecognizable, all trace of the tough, outspoken man gone in an instant. Heart heavy, I knew the reason for his anguish, and almost cursed myself for missing it before. Him and Doc were closer than almost every member of the detachment, and the image of the dark-eyed Private laughing with his carefree companion was burned into my mind. Vaguely recalling the story that Doc had told me about saving Devy's life, I took a step forward, reaching out with an unsure hand towards the man in front of me.

His shoulders shook as he cried, gentle gasps echoing quietly through the cave, and I sucked in a breath of air before speaking.

"...Devy?"

He looked up with a start, clearly startled by my sudden appearance, and attempted in vain to stifle his sobs. Rubbing roughly at his face with one sleeve, he turned away from me, trembling voice laced with spite as he gazed across the calm fields.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Tommy, don't scare me like that, goddammit."

"I-I didn't mean to, I..." Trailing off quietly, I stared at the dark-eyed man with sorrow, fingers laced together uncertainly. He was still attempting to wipe the tears from his face, breathing shaky as he struggled to stop the flow of emotion from bubbling over again. "I know how you feel about Doc. I'm so sorry—"