Animosity

Chapter 31 - The Answer

        Photo: A Vietnamese village goes up in flames.

—

        "What... what happened..?" I whispered, voice breaking weakly as I stared wide-eyed at the carnage in front of me, knees digging into the rough earth. The flickering of flames sent waves of light spiking into my eyes, and I blinked once, twice. Slowly, my trembling hands formed into fists, knuckles white as they smeared ashes into the dirt.

        My ears were ringing, a headache starting to form, radiating from my temples. The camp had been bombed. The camp had been bombed! What was happening?!

        To my right, I was vaguely aware of Devy's stocky form, throwing his rifle on the ground in one violent swing. Muffled screaming erupted from his throat as he pulled the collar of his shirt over his head, fingers gripping the cloth, shoulders hunched over as he collapsed onto the ground. Hank rushed to his side, hands outstretched, and I saw him attempt to lift the dark-haired man up gently through a hazy cloud. My vision was blurred, eyes swimming as I stared ahead, took in the chilling chaos.

        "Private Descartes?" came Lieutenant Hiro's quiet, strained call, concern lacing the words as they reached my ears.

        Barely even reacting, I swallowed the wet lump that blocked my throat. My voice sounded broken, coming out in soft, clogged tones, so raspy it hurt. "Lieutenant..?"

        "Are you alright?"

        Gazing out despairingly over the ruins of Camp Ngōc, hearing the furious cries of the man next to me, seeing the fire glitter in the light... I didn't know what to say. Was I alright? What would happen to us now? Where would we go?

        ...Was the journey over yet...?

        Letting my body sink into the ground, shoulders limp as my hands settled onto the soft dirt, I felt my fingers get coated in a thin layer of ash. My eyes wouldn't move from their positions locked straight ahead of me, and I took a deep breath before responding.

"I don't know if I'm okay."

—

"Nothing."

        I looked up, hands shaking in their place warming over the fire, orange embers shooting into the air like violent sparks. A tiny one landed gracefully on my knuckle, and I watched it sear slightly into the pale skin, a small red mark left behind. In front of us, Hank was standing slouched, arms in his pockets as he shrugged.

"There's no one here. No bodies, no people, nothin'. I checked everywhere." He admitted complicitly, waving a hand to gesture to the rest of the camp. We had already put out all of the fires, rushing forward desperately, snatching ashen traps up and batting out the orange flames with hacking coughs. There was an inky thickness in my lungs now, a dark sludge that seemed to coat the inside of my body like glue. As if triggering it, I coughed again, hiding my flushed face with the back of a sleeve.

        Hiro looked crestfallen, as if he hoped for a second that there would've been someone left in the carnage, but with a disjointed shake of the head, the expression was gone, replaced with one of logical determination. "Then that... that means that they left before it happened."

        Me and Devy glanced up at the blonde from our spot on the rough floor.

        "They must've gotten warned, maybe a radio signal was intercepted. ...I'm glad no lives were lost."

        "Shit, then what does that mean for the rest a' us?" Devy muttered through gritted teeth, hands balled into the dirt. He had been pacing in a tight circle for the past twenty minutes, swearing every now and then, nursing the split knuckle that had formed after he drove his fist into a nearby crate. Now, the small wound was covered in a layer of soot and dust, but despite my insistence, he refused to let me disinfect it. His loss, I thought bitterly. If he gets an infection, it won't be on me.