The Greene Effect - REWRITE!!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - OFRENDA

Amelia Greene -

It's either a blessing or a curse to finally leave Aachen. Something about the city's grown on me, but also makes me want to run for the hills.

I highly doubt wherever we're heading will be any safer. But glancing uneasily into the buildings each morning is tiring. Especially when they seem to grow in size each morning.

Besides, I'm hoping a chance of scenery will ease the tension between Turner and Pierson as well. This city has too many buildings for any type of peace. Perhaps a forest will remind them of how important it is for them to get along . .

Never minding that, I despise having to pack up whenever we move. Pierson wants everything in a very specific way, and if it's not perfect, we have to start all over again.

I'm not entirely sure why forks and spoons need to be perfectly arranged, but whatever Sergeant wants, Sergeant gets. I neatly tie a rubber band around the ends of a handful of the pronged utensil, humming a song in my head.

A new breeze falls over me, and I shiver. One of these homes would be nice refuge for the winter. Though their foundations are cracked and all windows shattered.

The last of the convey should be coming in soon. I'm not sure if they'll be here to send us off. Funny how we do the dirty work only to leave into another unmarked area and establish it as our own again.

I turn at a familiar groaning. A smile bursts across my face seeing a tan man climb out of a metal beast, a winning grin already showing.

"Perez!" I jog over to him, forgetting about my very important duty of fork handling. He reaches me halfway, engulfing me in a large hug.

"Hey, Greene!" He cheers, loud enough to garner a decent amount of attention. He never was one for volume level. "How've you been?"

"Good!" I reply almost as loudly, hyped by his excitement. "How bout yourself?"

"Kicking ass and trying not to fall on it." I laugh at his comment. He nods upwards, flexing a bearded jaw. "Where's Aiello?"

I make a face and look around, seeing if we'll be lucky and catch him between shifts. "He's got a busy schedule today. We all do. How long you gonna be here for?"

"An hour or two." It's never long visits with him, and I hide a frown. "Needa refuel this tanks, rendezvous with Turner, get orders. I'll be around more by the time you all get out of here." I'm pleased with that promise. "How is it out here?"

I shrug, gesturing to the smoking homes. "Up and down. We'll have quiet days and then have to defend every entrance the next. They're popping up out of nowhere. But we'll be out of here soon."

He scoffs, taking in the recent and ancient destruction. It does appear more like a movie set than real life. "Yeah, I can tell. Good thing you got Turner and Pierson, huh?"

He gently nudges my shower, smiling as though that's supposed to be a good thing. It is supposed to be a good thing. But some hard headed ass I know decided to constantly defy Turner's word.

"Yes, but it would be even better if they got along."

His flat eyebrows raise against his head. A flash of worry in his brown eyes. "They going through it again?"

I nod; he remembers the time directly after Kasserine when Turner wouldn't look him in the eye.
"Worse than before. They try to flat out ignore each other if they don't need to talk."

And put me in the middle of it - as if I have any idea what the hell is going on.

Perez let's out a low whistle, adjusting his helmet. I wish I didn't have to be so worried about this. He's pretty much his own boss with the exception of Davis. "That's what happens when there's history. I thought by now they would've worked past that."