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Grabowski called.
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It was a glorious thing to hear forty-something voices joining together and making the
ground shake with their thunder. Windows rattled. Even a few of the Delta guys were wincing.
They had let their Drill Sergeants down before. They wouldn't do it again.
Delta was called to attention and started their cadence.
Charlie burst out laughing. Delta sounded like complete asses. They didn't get it this
time. Drill Sergeant Davis made a big show of sighing.
Fuck, I shoulda known better, he shouted, looking at his own platoon. HALF
RIGHT FACE! He proceeded to heap embarrassment onto his belittled platoon.
Make that three boxes of Thin Mints, Phillip called, grinning wildly. He looked over
his platoon with pride.
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And two boxes of those Caramel Delight things! King added.
Don't forget those peanut butter ones. Those are awesome, Connelly cackled.
Overall that day freaking rocked.
***
The day started out with a cattle car ride. Ryan crinkled up his nose at that. Riding in
anything that smelled like week-old cow shit wasn't pleasant for anyone. Hell, at eight o'clock in
the morning it had already been in the eighties, so not only did it smell like shit it was hotter
than hell. By the time they got to their 'campground of love' as the Drills called it, they were all
bitchy. Brendon was calling Kenneth a jackass and Kenneth was calling Patrick a moron and
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Ryan was calling them all girls. They were given twenty minutes to set up their two-man tents.
Ryan wanted to laugh over that one.
He hadn't set up a tent since he was ten. Come to think about, it his father actually set
that one up. Luckily Patrick fucking Smith AKA Mr. Fucking Perfect knew how to do it. Yeah
okay, maybe Ryan was having a bad day too. It was more than a possibility. By the time night
came they were all ready to bed down but, oh no, Drill Sergeant Grabowski wanted to play a
game.
They sighed as they put on their MILES gear. To Ryan this was some sort of fucked up
laser tag game. He stared at the small receiver and wondered if ANYONE could actually make a
shot that would hit the little sensor. It criss-crossed their chests and lay across their Kevlar
vests. Grabowski even set one off so they would hear what it sounded like.
Ryan thought it sounded like a bird getting its head lopped off.
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Ryan, Patrick, Brendon and Kenneth were stalking through the forest, paying close
attention to their surroundings. Any little thing could be a booby trap and knowing their enemy,
it would be.
They all hunched down, staying in each other's footprints. Brendon was pulling point.
Ryan was behind him. Kenneth followed Ryan and Patrick was pulling up the rear. They were
quiet. They were deadly. They were United States Fucking Army.
At least that's what they were telling themselves when a shot came out of nowhere,
taking their medic down.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
INCOMING! Brendon shouted and they dove to the ground.
Where did the shot come from? Patrick shouted, as he low-crawled to Kenneth.
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Dude, I'm dead and if you use my body as a fucking shield I'll haunt your ass, Kenneth
warned.
Came from the left! Ryan shouted.
A grenade went off twenty feet from Brendon. Then another muffled shot.
Fuck! BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Man down! Patrick yelled.
No shit, Sherlock! Brendon shouted over the loud-assed beeping.
Ryan looked at Patrick who was watching to his left.
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BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
I'm dead, Ryan said as he dropped his head down to the ground. He seriously hated
these fucking beeps.
Patrick was the only one left. If he could just get to the tree - BEEP BEEP BEEP
BEEP.
Motherfucker! Patrick snorted.
GAWD DAMN, YOU FUCKERS MADE IT TOO FUCKING EASY! King
shouted.
Just what Ryan wanted to listen to - the annoying as fuck beeping and King shouting
like a fucking mad man.
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HAVE ANY OF YOU PAID ATTENTION TO THE CLASSES? Connelly
shouted over the beeps.
All four just hung their heads. This was fucking pitiful.
Luckily Grabowski was off hunting some other group. That made Ryan s night, at least
until they heard more beeps heading their way. Well, fuck.
Instead of four beeps they turned into eight solid fucking beeps. It was enough to make
Ryan want to rip the shit off and stomp on it.
For fucks sakes. You four, too? Have you piss-ants been paying ANY attention at all?
Phillip asked.
Yes, Drill Sergeant!
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EIGHT FUCKING DEAD. YOU MOTHERFUCKERS CAN'T BE PAYING
THAT MUCH ATTENTION!
All eight men looked down at the ground.
Un-fucking-acceptable! What is your major malfunction? Phillip shouted. A storm
brewed in his eyes until it exploded in a rage that made all eight want to take a step backwards.
Ryan realized that he didn't have to shout very loud to be heard over the racket. It
proved to Ryan that maybe Grabowski was God.
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