“That makes two of us. Just go easy, don’t get all gay on me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Fish…you’re not my type anyway,” Will jested, noticing Fischer was limping. “Are you injured?”
“No, not really. A little banged up, stunned as hell, and my ears are ringing like mad…but I’m good, I think.” Fischer staggered to the center of the road, giving the smoldering bridge scene a look of bewilderment. “Fuck me running…that’s some ate-up shit. What do you think they hit us with? IED?”
“I don’t have the slightest notion what it was or who they could be. I just know it happened fast.”
“Yeah, it did, for real. Came out of nowhere. And it had a ton of ass, whatever it was. I smell burning plastic…kind of like that polymer PBX shit. It’s a wonder any of us lived through it.”
Will hung his head low, reluctant to offer what he’d learned. “Besides you and me, none of us did.”
“What?” Fischer sent a look of incredulity. “What do you mean, man? No way—there were five of us, Sharp.” He counted from one to five on his fingers. “Stop playing with me. Where’s Jurg-off at? Where’s Hen-ro and Thom—”
“Gone,” Will interrupted, finality in his tone.
Fischer’s brows knitted. “Oh, come on! No way! That’s impossible!”
“I assure you it isn’t,” Will droned. “I found three KIA…assumed one more would be added to that tally…until you hollered at me from that ditch. Do the math.”
“W-where are they?”
Will hesitated before pointing to where he’d located the remains of the fallen. “There isn’t much of them left…just…pieces.”
The other soldier shook his head feverishly. “No! No…that can’t be! What the fuck, man?! They can’t be dead!”
Will lunged for Fischer and took hold of him by the arms. “They’re gone! They’re gone, Nate! Are you tracking me? We lost three of our own here today! Now do whatever you need to pull yourself together and get with it! This might not be over yet!” A long pause. “You and I are here, and we still have a job to do. My gear was knocked from me, I don’t know where my radio went, and that means no one knows what happened here. You and I got to beat feet, tear down this valley, and rally with the others.”
Fischer, now fully red in the face, pulled away and did his best to gather himself. “Damn…I’m sorry, Will…it’s just that…” He trailed off, exhaling. “You’re right. My bad, man. My bad.”
Will gave him a pat on the shoulder.
Rotating, Fischer jutted his chin to the desert-tan vehicle parked near the wood line, a veneer of metal fragments, plastic and chunks of concrete coating it. “You think the Oshkosh still runs?”
“It’d better. It’s a long way back on foot.” Will started off, motioning for Fischer to follow him. “Let’s move. Gather your shit if you can find it. I’ll drive.”
The duo boarded the JLTV, cranked the engine, and headed south after a multipoint turnabout, a disturbing feeling of remorse settling over them for having left their brothers behind. Will pushed hard on the accelerator down the straightaway, passing the old store soon after. He rounded a corner and slowed, seeing a large man stomping his way from the left side of the road to the right. As they neared him, the man halted to face the oncoming vehicle and threw his hands up in a ‘please stop’ gesture.
Will pressed on the brakes, and the light armored vehicle screeched to a standstill.
Fischer pushed open his door and held it in place with his boot. “Everything okay, sir?”
“Peter,” he panted, moving in to lean on the JLTV. “Peter Saunders, and no.”
“I’m Private Nate Fischer. Don’t think we’ve met before.” He gestured left. “This is Private Will Sharp. How can we assist?”
Peter conveyed a brief nod, then pointed to a house sitting above the road to their right. “That’s my place up there.” He keeled over, placing his hands to his knees, appearing exhausted and distraught. “I was heading back to call this in on the radio…but since you’re here…” He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder to the opposite side of the road.
Will jerked his head left, and a raging fire burning nearly out of control came into view a hundred yards east of their position.
Fischer stepped out to inspect, able now to discern the fire’s ferocious roar. A vast murky column of black smoke churned like a funnel cloud from the treetops into the hazy sky above. “Hoooly shit!”
“That’s what I said,” Peter muttered, “when I heard the explosion or, more to the point, felt it. I lived near a quarry when I was a kid; reminded me of dynamite being set off underground.” He sniffled and wiped at his nose, a distinctive shadow of distress casting over his expression. “Everything is blown to kingdom come over there—there’s nothing left. Three friends of ours are dead. They were filling some gas cans and…topping off the tanks in their quads…getting them ready for today. They must’ve been right beside the storage tanks when they went up. I…tried to go over there, but the fire…it’s just too hot. I can’t get close enough.”
Will skirted the JLTV to stand next to him. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Peter.”
“Echoed.” Fischer reached inside for his canteen and handed it off. “Sorry for your loss. How well did you know them?”
“We’ve been through a lot together,” Peter said, barely able to get the words out as his emotions began to take hold. He sipped from the canteen and wiped his mouth. “They might as well have been family.”
Will shared a dreadful look with his unit cohort. “Fischer and I…we’ve been there. We can relate. We know how it feels…to lose…” He trailed off, unsure whether to reveal what had transpired prior to their arrival. “How long ago did
