The room felt like all the blood had just been washed off the floor, a sterile
hollow feel. Outside the weather had gone from zero visibility dust storm
to medium-grade flood, mud forming up in the air into crumb-sized balls that
sanded the front door and drifted up the curbs and gutters. The myth of global
climate change had gotten all offended about not being taken seriously, and
turned itself into an angry and vengeful thing, a God that had little mercy for
the plight of humanity.
We'd adapted, Joe and I. He'd been my spotter, a sidekick and best
friend. We'd fought together, were eventually closer than brothers, closer
than lovers, close as blood under skin. Couples fight and argue because of
secrets, because they cannot always honestly be themselves, but Joe and I
depended on that brutal truthful total honesty, lived and died by it. If
we couldn't sort one another out in the pre-mission shakedown, if we had any
doubt about intention or loyalty or honesty, we'd not have survived war.
But we clicked. A lot of teams didn't but we did. Same background,
sort of proto-redneck, wannabe hillbilly. Same ambitions. Same
soundtrack, similar girls back home, same make and model of pickup though mine
was a year newer.
The mud-encrusted world outside of the front door, a simple pine slat affair
reinforced with steel and carbon plating, was filled with enemies just beyond
the haze. Always just out of sight. They looked like everyone else,
they talked like everyone else, they smelled like everyone else, they died like
everyone else. They weren't a monster, you had to keep telling yourself
they weren't a monster. Just men, women, children sometimes. They
were out there huddled in the mud huts, the adobe walls buried and badly rebuilt
by these mud storms. The enemy fought with passion, without remorse, and
they lived shoved into tiny houses, huddled over one another, writhing in fear
and anger. We rode the streets in tanks and uparmored SPAPCs, robotically
controlled MPPVs, fast attack dune buggies, those LAV things that the SFO guys
all whooped around in. We invaded their homes, but could not billet there;
the homes were too small, too flimsy, the mud walls too easy to breech with high
explosive and evil intent.
Since the invasion, we'd pushed them all the way back to the canal in the south,
but they closed in around us like sand. At any given moment, we were
surrounded by a million angry, hungry, terrified people. Just where we
wanted to be. Surrounded by an ocean of humanity that seemed to disregard
our presence in the larger view; if I were lucky enough to get 100 miles away
from here, the people I met would not know what I was. We fought for the
corridor, we secured the transport of goods, but we had no interest in a flooded
country filled with the teeming biomass. We had enough problems at home,
thanks.
Joe and I thought it was strange that the old Armies of the US used to have
goals like: take an entire country. Invade and, what, jail everyone?
Convert everyone to Universal Truth? I mean, how do you do that? Joe
would say, maybe back then the population was smaller, but we looked it up and
there used to be five billion people on the planet. Joe and I both
couldn't comprehend it. Easily two billion more than we had now.
Five billion people, and you maybe want to ride in and control them? Some
number of hundreds of millions at best? No way, Jose. That's suicide
right there. That's just old fashioned dumb-headedness, Joe would
say. They used to believe in fire gods and television evangelists, too.
The room was being heavily pelted now by the remains of the hurricane.
Joe's body slumped in the corner, a deflated rag doll, joints out at strange
angles. I walked over to him in the flickering light, the wind screaming,
the roof of the PPLU screeching against reinforced steel and nylon. The
mud storm grew into waves outside, ankle deep channels of slick black crap
running fast down the road. I pulled him by his feet, trying not to think
of this body as Joe. Joe my blood brother, Joe my road guard, Joe my
angel. Joe my only protection when I was sunk deep into The Trance, eyes
and head only aware of the target. The Target, some head of some body of
some enemy who had done us wrong. The Target, sometimes just a man or a
woman or a child who managed to rise up, wise up, raise up. Just yesterday
a farmer, trying to divert a supply of sand bags that would have saved his field
from the mud storm, would have given him just a little edge over his
neighbors. But would have broken the law. The Universal Truth said,
no stealing. His head turned into a cloud of pink just as the first two
rounds shook Joe's body, Joe already had been yelling at me to run, run, bug
out, we'd been targeted but I was deep into it. That first round, a 20mm
anti-material round from a friendly zoomie. The second round intended for
me, but Joe's last twitching gasping move was to catch it as well, catch this
gigantic slug of metal as the jet peeled by, closing the world in sound and
kerosene sere.
Joe's vest held his body together long enough for me to drag him to cover, a
quickly assembled PPLU left here by our placement team. One of his arms
seemed to be missing, and his chest wasn't really there anymore.
His body, a bag of vital fluids, leaking, dead before I could hear even one last
word. The trail his backpack had dug in the hill was filled with violet
and too-bright red of oxygenated blood.
I like to think it wasn't as painful as it was.
My radio had crackled a few times, someone trying to verify our location.
The pilot had reported hitting two insurgents in our coordinates, and I heard
only his end of the "Oh Shit!" moment. He sounded cool, calm, not too
badly shaken that he'd killed a fellow Marine. When I found out who he
was, I was going to kill his family. Torture his pets in front of his
kids, in front of him. Drag his body through the streets of his hometown,
tied to Joe's truck. I was going to take my time, sweet and slow, and let
the vengeance pour out of me like thick viscous acid. This thought pleased
me, relaxed me, gave me control as I secured the PPLU and started the generator.
The storm picked up again, my handheld showing the eye only a few miles south of
us. The eye would not come near us. We would get the worst of the
storm, but no relief until it passed. The lightbulb flickered, the LEDs
getting dim as the electromagnetic portion of the storm grew in size and bore
down on us. All that heat and dust and dry and all this storm all combined
to make a fuckload of electricity, and God Himself would have been startled by
the lightning once it crested over us, started to try and cover the landscape in
earnest. As the wind picked up, the lightning hit too fast to count or
properly comprehend.
Joe had talked about the old wars, about artillery attacks and how completely
random they were if you were on the receiving end. Joe talked about when
his grandfather had been killed by Palestinian artillery. He told me the
story, how they'd just sat down to dinner, his whole family living like rats in
a cage in an occupied zone, and his grandfather had just said the blessing when,
wham, that whole side of the room turned into the neighborhood. Joe's dad
was only six or so, and he just sat there, staring at the gaping hole in the
building, staring at what used to be his father and his uncles, what was now a
hole in space. I could imagine Joe's dad, running back toward the stairs as the
floor collapsed. That sudden incomprehensible shock, the world just gone
all fucked up in one explosion.
I kept waiting to see the lightning break through the Faraday field, though the
science guys said that it wasn't like that. But I didn't trust them
much. They were the guys that invented things like smart targeting, and
Joe was proof how well that worked.
This lightning saturated the ground, filled the air with a constant ripping
explosion, a hideous and overloud sound that threatened to flatten the
PPLU. The other advantage the PPLU had over the mud huts and shacks was,
it was secured into the ground with non-conductive spikes that were explosively
driven fourteen feet into the earth. Big barbed spikes. Joe used to
laugh about taking one up in a CH-450 and using it to harpoon Garcia the
Warrior. Garcia the Terrorist. Garcia, the man who'd been at the
center of all of this. I harbored no hatred to Garcia, even if he did
exist, because he was just a man. No one man makes for this much
blood. The presidential committee had determined, though, that he and his
army of poor land grabbers were guilty of attacks against the trains and trucks
and barges that took the goods from point A and deposited them deep in the
bowels of point B. So Garcia was the point around which we gathered,
protecting the corridor and shoving those in the easement past the point of
interference. Those poor fuckers in the easement. Most had some
ill-timed belief in a version of Universal Truth that just didn't gibe with the
reality of economics. Poor fuckers.
I diverted myself as much as possible from the horrorshow outside. The
PPLU had been hit my lightning fifty times from what I could count, the last one
putting a pinpoint hole in the cieling that I had to repair with epoxy.
Though the PPLU was supposedly as lightning proof as any copper-infused Faraday
cage, static filled the air, the hair on my arms was on end, and Joe looked like
a goddamn frightwig attached to a bag of meat. I laughed at how ridiculous
his body looked. It felt good to laugh. I know he would have, he
would have laughed at me had the tables been turned. It meant that the
Faraday field was interrupted somewhere, that I would probably be cooked if this
pocket of lightning didn't pass soon. The door was glowing, smoldering,
giving off heat. The mud sizzled as it hit the armor outside. The
pine in the door panel would be charcoal by this evening, and I'd be forced to
reckon with the world.
I sat down hard in the dust as the last of the thunder clapped overhead, my
headphones shutting out the shrill cap of it but doing nothing to the
rumble. The floor rattled, the walls rattled, and the light finally gave
out. Alone in the ozone darkness, the lightning moving down the street, I
could finally think a bit. I reached over to Joe, pulled his body into
mine, and stole his cigarettes.
I groped for my lighter, and lit one of Joe's smokes. In the glow of my Zippo I
could see, stuck between the cellophane and the cardboard, a picture of Joe and
I in Utah during the tail end of the uprising two years previous. We both
smiled for the camera, dirty and tired, our sweat leaving clean rivulets against
mud-colored skin. Joe, his sunburned cheeks cracked into a smile, and me,
my teeth the only white on my face, gave the thumbs up to the camera.