Outlanders Page #4

A short story I intend to build into something bigger. It details my experiences, as well as the experiences of others I served with, during our tours in Iraq.

• Science fiction

								


Hope I fucking die, thought Griff.  He raised his rifle and yelled at the other girl to stop, and get on her knees.  Griff could see genuine fear in her young eyes.  They looked like oceans, blue and wet.  

“Fucking shoot her!” yelled Dobner,  The rest of the soldiers moving towards the door that contained the death eater.  

“She’s a kid!  She’s terrified!” Griff responded, fear and confusion settling in.  It would have been easy to pull the trigger.  He remembered the rooftop firefight, and so many other attacks, but he tried so hard to see them as people.

“You’re going to get us all killed, you f*ck!  She’s scared because she knows!  She fucking knows this is a one-way mission!  Blow her goddamn brains out!”  

Griff knew he was probably right.  He knew that Dobner had every right to suspect that the girl was a suicide bomber, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot someone so young.  

“I fucking can’t!” Griff yelled.  His eyes were moist with tears, and he slowly lowered the barrel of his rifle.  

Another round exploded through the silence, echoing off of the walls.  Griff glanced over his shoulder to see Gamble was towering next to him with his rifle at the ready.  The barrel had a small trace of smoke coming from it.

“Jesus.  What have I done?” Gamble asked, as he watched the girl slump towards the ground. Slowly blood seeped from her wound and stained her clothes.

“Saved our fucking lives!” Dobner responded, “You sexy bastard!”

The soldiers calmed themselves, realizing that there were no more targets.  A moist sucking noise started to echo through the room, a wet sucking slurping that discomforted everyone.  It was Jello sucked through a straw, it was soup slurping from a spoon.  It was her wet heavy breathing through the hole in her chest.

“What is that fucking noise?” Gamble asked.  His voice was frantic and childlike, “Sergeant.  Why is she making that fucking noise?!”  

His eyes were wide, and tears were clinging to them, waiting for the weight of what had happened to cause them to drop down his cheeks.  

“Why did I kill a little girl, Sergeant?  Why did I do that?”  Gamble’s breathing became rapid.  He was uncomfortable in his armor.  He wanted to rip it off, his helmet came first, and flew across the room.  It wasn’t enough.  He started ripping at the Kevlar and the vest that held it.  Unable to find purchase, he flung his rifle across the room to free up his other hand and started tearing at the vest with both hands.  

“Why is she making that noise?” he asked, “Why is she making that God-damned noise?”

The armor came off, and was slung to the side of the room.  The other men stood there watching, no one knowing what to say or do.  The armor wasn’t enough.  Gamble would have pulled his fucking skin off if he could.  He slumped down, cradling his head in his hands, tears finally falling down his face.

“Why did I kill that little girl, and why the hell is she making that noise?”

Two of the other soldiers moved over to Gamble, checking on him, asking him basic aid questions, but Griff stared in silence.  He watched Gamble, the sucking chest-wound, and the crazed Dobner.  He wasn’t sure what to do.

Dobner leaned in over the girl, bringing his face close to hers.  He watched her labored breathing, and watched as bubbles of blood formed and popped with her every breath.  Slowly the blood pooled around her, oozing from the hole in her chest.

He pulled her robe, pushed her around, and began feeling her for weapons, traps, and intel.  Griff had moved closer to offer security, though he was visibly uncomfortable with everything that had happened.  He watched as Dobner frantically patted and re-patted areas.  He watched while his squad leader searched and searched again. 

“Sarge.  She doesn’t have anything,” Griff said.  His own eyes were starting to get wet, and the crying from Gamble made the situation that much worse.

“What?!” sobbed Gamble.  The guilt of what he had done had taken a far darker turn.  “I killed her for nothing?”

The squad all started to move, leaving Gamble to sob in solitude, watching Dobner continuously search the dying girl.  

“I’m calling the medic,” Griff said, turning toward the man-pack.  

A hand grabbed his elbow, pulling him back as he moved.  Griff turned, Dobner was staring at him, his eyes wide with hate, “The hell you are.”

Griff pushed him back, just enough to break the contact.  Dobner let go immediately, but followed up by drawing down on Griff.  He had his rifle in hand and pointed at Griff faster than Griff’s mind could register what was happening.  Griff wondered how Dobner was up and moving so fast, he wondered what was going through his squad leader’s mind, he wondered if he was going to become another casualty.  Griff stared down the barrel of Dobner’s rifle, no longer able to see the world around them.  He could only see Dobner and the shooter.  

Christ, Thought Griff.  His heart wouldn’t slow down.  He stopped all movement.  He wasn’t sure if Dobner would friendly fire him, but given the situation he felt it best to err on the side of caution.

“What the hell are you doing?” Griff asked.  It was a genuine question.  He was confused, and simply wanted some clarification.  

“I’ll watch her die!”  Dobner yelled.  

“She.  She hasn’t done… Anything!” Griff yelled.  His voice was loud, frantic.  His nerves were shot and he couldn't slow down his heart rate.  It was a machine gun in his chest, pumping rounds at such a rate it would overheat soon.  The rest of the squad stood around the men, a tense and awkward silence settled over them, and no one said a word.  None of them knew what words to say in this situation.  It was never covered in any of their training.

“Not yet.  She will.  You go get that medic.  You go.  And when she’s healed.  When.  When she’s back to normal.  You think?  You think she’s going to remember this?  She doesn’t give a shit!  She is here to kill us.  To. Kill. Us.  And I’m killing her first! So.  Go.  Get the god-damned medic.  But by the time the medic gets here, there won’t be enough.”  Dobner stopped a second to breathe.  His words were fast and staccato, and he barely breathed while he barked at Griff.
“There won’t be enough to put on the stretcher, and you’ll need the fucking medic, got it?”  He finished, breathing heavily.

Finally one of the others broke the tension and silence that hung in the air.

“Sarge.  She’s.  She’s got something!” A voice yelled, its owner immediately raised a rifle and pointed it at her.  

Everyone stopped.  Everything stopped.  The world ceased to spin on its axis for this one brief moment in time.  Every eye in the small concrete room was now fixed on the vision of a dying young girl, bubbles of blood forming and popping on her chest with each and every shallow breath that labored into her body.  Her skin was pallid and washed out, the blood loss was taking its toll on her, but her eyes.  Her eyes had the look of deadly determination.  

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