Shadows of War

grass and weeds a few yards away.

M? needed no urging; staying low to the ground, she scampered ahead and disappeared in the brush.

When he reached the grass, Josh turned back around to try and get a look out at the field and see what the soldiers were doing. He couldn’t see much of the barn, or the field in front of the house. He backed up, still on hands and knees, pushing the grass back and forth — a telltale sign, he knew, that someone was hiding there.

Josh froze, then eased his head to the side, looking for a passage where he could crawl without disturbing the vegetation. He spotted one a few feet away. Pressing his stomach into the earth, he moved toward it as wormlike as possible. The earth smelled wet, with a vague manure scent.

His nose started to twitch.

Josh caught the sneeze in the crook of his arm, smothering it. He held his breath, and bit the side of his lip with his mouth. The pain felt almost good, reassuring. It was an easy trade — endure this pinprick of pain in exchange for safety.

But there were no deals to be made with fate. The soldiers began to yell. Once more Josh froze.

Some gunshots.

M?!

He started to jump up, rifle poised. He knew exactly what he was going to do: run out to the soldiers, finger pressed on the trigger of the rifle as he ran. He’d get a small measure of revenge before they killed him. He’d release his anger — not just from the assault by the Chinese, but from everything, from the unfair slaughter of his family when he was a child, from everything.

As he started to spring up, a small hand gripped his side. M?’s touch was light, but it stopped him. Josh folded forward.

The girl curled herself around him. He pulled M? close, expecting the soldiers to run to them at any second.

But they didn’t. There were more shouts, a little farther away.

Josh smelled smoke. He let go of the girl and crawled forward a few feet, raising his head.

The barn was made of wood. There were stacks of bamboo near the sides. The soldiers had taken these and set fires.

The door opened. Two figures emerged, coughing. Some of the soldiers nearby began firing. The men fell.

They looked like farmers to him. They definitely weren’t soldiers.

There were more shots. From the bam? Josh couldn’t tell.

The soldiers were running, moving toward the barn.

Go, now, while everyone’s attention was there.

He took out his video camera, fumbling with it. There was about forty-five seconds of memory left, part of the file he’d erased the day before. He pressed the button and began shooting.

Go! Get out of here!

Another figure came out of the barn, hands up. The soldiers cut her down as well.

The memory on the camera was full. He turned it off, slid it back into his pocket.

More gunfire. They were firing into the barn now, blindly.

M? was kneeling next to him. Rising into a crouch, Josh poked her to come with him. He started moving through the field, gradually rising, moving so fast that he was tugging the girl.

“Come on,” he growled at her beneath his breath. Finally he reached down and pulled her up on his hip, running full speed toward a thick wedge of trees. Just as he reached it, he saw it was bordered by a barbed-wire fence. Afraid he couldn’t stop in time, he plunged down to the side, rolling on the ground and then into the wire.

M? began to cry.

“Sssh,” he said sharply.

One of the barbs had gone into his side. He felt it as he pulled away. He pulled the girl up, checked her — she didn’t seem to be hurt, just scared, very scared.

“Through here.”

Josh held up a strand of the wire. M? didn’t move. He leaned down, levering the strands apart so the space was bigger.

“Go,” he whispered to M?, trying to make his voice sound gentle, knowing that he had to be reassuring even though he felt anything but.

M? squeezed through. Josh followed. His stomach hurt as he contorted. His right pants leg caught on one of the barbs, snagged, and ripped as he forced his leg to follow the rest of his body.

Through the wire, he rolled onto the ground, fighting the pain. He forced himself up, then felt a new wave of panic when he didn’t see the girl.

“M?.” Her name sounded like a groan. “M?!”

He took a step, felt the pain swell in his side. He looked down. There was a black spot on his shirt.

Something moved near him.

“M??”

The girl popped out of the brush. “Kia,“ she said, pointing.

He wasn’t sure what the word meant, but he pushed himself forward, glad to see her, still half fearing the worst.

A bicycle was leaning next to a tree. It was almost brand new, obviously parked there very recently, maybe by one of the people in the bam as an emergency escape.

They were on a slight rise; ten yards down the hillside a trail wound through the woods.

Josh grabbed the bicycle and walked it down through the trees to the path. The trail was rough but passable. He climbed onto the seat.

The pain in his side wasn’t that bad. He could deal with it. He would have to.

“Come on, M?,” he said. She ran over; he started to grab her but she already knew what to do, climbing directly onto the crossbar.

His side seemed to split open with his first push on the pedal. Josh struggled to ignore it, pushing with his left foot, and then his right.

Go, he told himself. Go!

After twenty yards, the path met a blacktopped road. Josh veered onto it without really thinking, grateful for the easier pedaling and surer balance. It was only after he’d gone a hundred yards that he realized he was back on the road the Chinese must have used to get to the house. But it was too late to turn back. He leaned forward, his chest touching M?’s side, putting as much energy into his legs as possible. His torn pants leg flapped against the chain guard, a steady if light drum keeping time as he went.

Another sound rose over it, behind him. A truck.

Several trucks.

Josh veered off the road onto the shoulder. M? hopped off; he grabbed the bike and pointed to the trees.

His head was swimming by the time he reached the thick clump of vegetation. He put the bike down and lay down, curling around his wound, trying to get his breath back. M? sat next to him, her tiny body on top of his.

The trucks took longer than he expected to arrive. The sound kept building and building. Finally Josh forced himself up to take a look. At first he couldn’t see anything. Then a green and brown blur passed by — a camouflaged command vehicle.

Not much.

Another blur, similar in size and shape.

A lot of noise for just two trucks.

And then a gray truck passed by, a two-part troop vehicle. Then another. And another. A whole parade of them, an endless parade.

Josh sank back in despair.

“I should have shot them when I had the chance,” he said aloud. “Now there’s way too many. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

M? looked at him.