The n00b Warriors (Book One)

by Scott Douglas

  Before anyone responded, another man came up behind Dylan and wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist. Dylan shoved away and demanded, “What gives?”

  “Relax! And hold still so I know what size pants to bring you.”

  Dylan waited uncomfortably as the man continued to take measurements, then said, “Hold on.”

  The man left, returning moments later with a pair of camouflage pants and a shirt and tossing them at Dylan. “Try these on.”

  “Where’s the fitting room?”

  The man laughed. “Where do you think you are? Drop your trousers and try them on.”

  Trinity looked at him and blushed.

  “What are you staring at?” Dylan stammered. “Turn around!”

  He moved as fast as he could, trying to ignore the already-uniformed, older soldiers who laughed at his skinny legs as they walked by. “They’re great,” Dylan said after he had changed, “but do you have some without the bullet hole?”

  “That’s not a bullet hole,” the man smirked, “it’s a patriot mark—and that’s the best I got in your size.”

  Dylan nodded and looked at Hunter and Trinity. “What about them?”

  The man glanced at them and said, “Nope. We won’t have anything that fits them down here. You’ll want to go to the infirmary—that’s where all the extra clothes are before they send them over here. They have all the smaller sizes.”

  # # #

  Dylan could see Trinity’s ankles and feet as her pants fell to the ground. His eyes traced up her bare ankles hypnotically, until they reached the curtain of the fitting room, and then he turned away, disappointed.

  “I can’t believe the girls get a fitting room,” Dylan said.

  Hunter held up a pair of pants with a bloodstain on the right leg, asking, “How about these?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Try them on.” He turned back to the fitting room just in time to see Trinity pull the pants up.

  “What are you staring at?” Hunter quizzed.

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you staring at Trinity?” Hunter laughed.

  Dylan blushed. “No.”

  “You were staring!” Hunter teased.

  “Be quiet and get dressed.”

  Trinity emerged from the fitting room a few moments later. “How do I look?”

  Before either of the boys could answer, Trinity cried, staring past them, “Look!”

  “What?” Dylan asked as Trinity bolted past.

  “It’s Sarah! She’s alive!” she replied as she ran towards a hospital bed in the back of the room.

  “Who’s Sarah?” Dylan called.

  Trinity stopped and turned around. She looked Dylan in the eye and scolded, “My roommate—the one you left for dead.”

  Sarah’s face was badly bruised, but she was awake when the three of them came to her. There were bloodstains in her blonde hair. Trinity took her hand immediately. “I’m so happy you’re here, Sarah—I thought you were dead.”

  Sarah smiled and asked, “Do you think they’ll send me home now?”

  “Sure, Sarah,” Trinity said compassionately.

  “Do you want your PSP back?” Hunter asked, stepping forward.

  She thought for a moment. “I don’t really play it, anyway—if you promise to write me about the war, then you can keep it.” She paused. “I’ve never known a boy on the front.”

  Hunter blushed, but nodded.

  She took a small metal bracelet off her wrist and handed to him. “My address is on the back of it.”

  Hunter gingerly took the delicate keepsake. He studied it for a second before putting it into his pants pocket and backing away, eyes on the ground.

  Dylan stood behind Hunter at a distance. He looked at the bloodstained patch on Sarah’s left shoulder; a bullet had hit her there. Not making eye contact, he softly said, “I would have gone back for you if I could have.”

  Sarah nodded and forced a smile.

  “I’m glad you’re alive.”

  A doctor came up to the bed then. “Say your goodbyes. We have to get her off to surgery—get that bullet out of her.”

  # # #

  As they made their way to the park’s exit, they passed Matterhorn Mountain one last time. Dylan surveyed the structure; near the top, he saw a figure and the ember of a burning cigar. He remembered Lyle’s words to him about smoking at the top of the mountain when it was all over.

  “What an idiot,” he said, pointing. “Let’s get out of this park.”

  Main Street was not quiet, as it had been hours ago. It looked like Toontown had: barbeque pits were in the middle, and a band was playing rock music in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. The windows of the candy store had been shattered, and soldiers freely climbed into the store, taking what was left inside.

  “Want some candy?” Dylan asked Trinity.

  “Do you think we can?”

  “Everyone else is.

  As Dylan and Hunter stuffed their pockets with the little candy that was left, Trinity browsed a postcard rack near the cash register. She held up several and said, “I’m going to send some home—want some?”

  Dylan nodded and went to the rack.

  “What are you going to say on yours?” Trinity asked.

  “I don’t know—that I’m having fun or something.”

  “You won’t say the truth?”

  Dylan thought of his mom and the baby. “Not the bad stuff.” Not long before his sister went missing, she had sent Dylan a postcard; it was the Army-issued postcard with the flag on the front and the slogan “Fight Hard, Fight Proud” in bold letters. It was the only one Dylan ever got from her. She wrote that Army life was good and not to worry, but to take extra special care of their mom and Jacob. Dylan had suspected for a long time that she knew she was going to die soon, and sent the letter so he’d have something to remember her by.

  “Do you think we’ll ever be able to forget what we saw?”

  Dylan turned away and closed his eyes. “Sure, Trinity—one day.”

  A mirror caught Trinity’s eyes, and she went up to it. She stared at herself for several seconds before grumbling, “Uniforms are not made for girls—I look so ugly.”

  Dylan walked up behind her and shook his head. “No, you don’t.” His eyes wandered curiously over her body; he followed the curls in her hair; she had taken the ponytail out and let the dark mass fall naturally. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t—he couldn’t.

  # # #

  (Coco Puff, Blog Entry)

  THE FUTURE IS HERE

  Posted: Wednesday, October 11, 2014 | 11:17 AM (GMT)

  I’m back from the Euro Gaming Convention, and, of course, got a first look at the upcoming EP game series that the United States will be releasing for the holiday season.

  I found it appropriate that the United States used foreign soil to unveil such an ambitious project—it shows the President’s commitment to global peace.

  As for the games themselves, it’s hard not to be impressed at games that seek to educate kids so interactively. The highlight of their Press Conference was a game titled America. True, it’s not the most original name, but no one seemed to care once they saw the game’s content.

  The game pits players on the front of the American Revolution. Here, young gamers learn about the battlefield tactics of the country’s first President, General George Washington. Gone are the fluffy textbook narratives, which portray him as a gentleman who would “never lie.” In their place is the frank portrayal of a ruthless revolutionary figure who sometimes was forced to make harsh choices for the nation to prevail.

  America, the game’s spokesman promises, will be followed by a long line of games that educate about all of America’s great, and not so great, moments in war.

  Tags: PlayStation, video games, EP, America, game rating system, Educational Play, Euro Gaming Convention

  Level 5

  Moving Out

  When Dylan opened his eyes, Goofy was s
taring at him, pointing a gun at his forehead. “If you want to live to see tomorrow, put your hands on your head.”

  Dylan sat up, startled, and put his hands on his head.

  Hunter, who was next to Dylan in bed again, screamed when he saw what was going on.

  “Quiet,” the Goofy figure said, shaking his gun at Hunter.

  “What do you want?” Dylan asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking so Hunter wouldn’t freak out more.

  “Do you know—the Hokey Pokey?”

  “The Hokey Pokey?” Dylan was confused.

  Goofy nodded and started to laugh. “It’s just me, Lyle,” the figure said, removing the head and tossing it on the ground. “I really got you!”

  Dylan shoved off the covers and stood. “Really funny,” he said as he started to get dressed, avoiding Lyle’s eye.

  “Maybe this will make you smile.” Lyle pulled a chrome button with two stripes from his pocket and handed it to Dylan, “You’ve just been promoted to team leader of Company D.”

  “Team leader?” Dylan asked, confused again.

  Lyle nodded, excited. “I’ve been moved to Company C, and I gave your name as my personal recommendation.” He paused and then added, “Congratulations.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you eat at the big boy’s table—come on, grab your things and let’s get some breakfast.”

  “What about Hunter?”

  Irritated, Lyle glanced at Hunter and said, “What about him? You can meet him after breakfast.”

  Dylan turned to Hunter and said, “Get dressed and go to Trinity’s room. I’ll find you downstairs.” He looked over at Samuel. He was lying in the fetal position at the edge of the other bed, staring blankly at the TV—the same position and place Hunter and Dylan found him in when they came back the night before. They’d tried to talk to him, but he refused to speak. “And get Samuel downstairs.”

  “What if he won’t get out of bed?”

  “Find Trinity and have her help you.”

  # # #

  “The great thing about your new position,” one of Lyle’s friends explained as Dylan ate breakfast, “is you get to send the other kids out to die—I lost my entire company last week, and you know what happened to me?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  “Army gave me a week off while they put together a new squad for me! I’ve been riding rides all week.”

  “So my job is just to assign kids to die?”

  “Basically,” the guy laughed. “It sounds bad when you put it that way—you get used to losing men. I’ve been assigned to new men twenty times, and I’ve only been in the Army less than a year.”

  “I’ve been assigned new men twenty-two times,” Lyle boasted.

  “Twenty-six here,” another man called.

  “I heard about a woman in Oregon that has been assigned new companies over a hundred times, and has lost over a thousand soldiers!”

  “Gun-Shy Molly?” Lyle asked.

  “That’s her.”

  “She’s a legend,” Lyle said dismissively. He turned to Dylan. “But it’s like I always say—exaggeration is just another form of survival in the Army. Maybe twenty-two squads have served under me, and maybe there’s only been one. Maybe we’re all lying. Doesn’t matter. No one cares as long as you act like you’re the right man for the job.”

  Dylan was barely listening, staring instead at the entrance and waiting for Trinity and Hunter to come in. A piece of corn hit him between the eyes, and Dylan looked across the table at Lyle’s friend. “Are you?” the soldier asked, throwing another piece of corn.

  “Am I what?”

  “The right man for the job.”

  Dylan shrugged. “Sure—whatever.”

  Lyle laughed and slapped Dylan on the back. “What’d I say! Do I pick them good or what?” He started to say something more, but stopped when he saw Trinity and Hunter approaching. “What are they doing here? This area is reserved for team leaders only.”

  “They’re with me,” Dylan objected.

  “I don’t care who they’re with—this is the only time we have to bond as leaders.” Lyle stood and held out his hand towards Dylan’s friends. “Just turn back around. You’re not welcome here.”

  Dylan stood, too. “I’ll meet you in a second,” he said apologetically.

  “We need you now,” said Trinity. “It’s Samuel—he’s refusing to come out of the room, and there’s guards up there threatening to force him out.”

  Dylan quickly stepped away from the table.

  “You’re going?” Lyle asked.

  “He’s in my company now.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Lyle called after him.

  Dylan ignored him and followed Trinity out of the dining hall.

  When they got to the room, Samuel was being dragged out by two guards. He wasn’t fighting being taken away; his body was limp. For a moment, Dylan thought he was dead, but as he was dragged past them, his eyes blinked. “That man is in my company,” Dylan said hesitantly.

  “Not anymore—he violated a direct order from a superior officer by not vacating this room.” The guard looked down at Samuel and added, “He’s no good to you, anyway.”

  “Do something, Dylan,” Trinity pleaded.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Lead!” Trinity pushed him out of the way and asked the guard, “If I can get him to stand on his own, will you let him go?”

  The guard rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this—I haven’t even gotten my breakfast.”

  Trinity ignored the guard and bent down to Samuel. She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him. “Snap out of it, Samuel! Stand up!” She turned to Dylan and said, “Help me! Help me stand him up.”

  “He’s just in shock, Trinity. Let them take him.”

  At that, Hunter went up and wrapped his arms around Samuel’s waist, doing his best to hold him up. The guards seemed amused at first at the effort, but quickly got bored; one of them slapped Trinity’s hand from Samuel and pushed her away. “Enough.”

  Trinity whirled around to Dylan and said, “Is this how you lead? Just stand back and do nothing? What happened to looking out for us?” Then she stalked off.

  Dylan turned away from her, troubled, and watched as the two guards dragged Samuel down the hall. He started to go back to finish breakfast but noticed Hunter hadn’t moved. “What?”

  “His things are still in the room,” Hunter quietly pointed out. “Should I go get them or something?”

  Dylan looked into their hotel room, then back at Hunter and nodded. “Sure. Go through his stuff and find anything we might need.”

  Hunter stared at him. “I meant to take it to him. I’m not going to steal his stuff.”

  “It’s a war, Hunter—that’s what people do.” He saw that Hunter was upset and changed his tone. “Just go eat, yeah?”

  “Are you going to take it?” Hunter challenged.

  Dylan thought for a moment, then sighed. “No.”

  # # #

  After breakfast, Lyle took Dylan upstairs to meet the Company D commander. The company headquarters were all found on the upper levels of the hotel. Company A and B each had entire floors; Company C had most of a floor; and Company D had a room.

  “The guy’s very traditional, so make sure and salute him and call him sir—he demands respect. Old-school, you know?”

  Dylan nodded and stood back politely as Lyle walked to the guard in front of the headquarter’s door. The guard was playing a PSP and hadn’t noticed Lyle and Dylan approaching. When he looked up and saw Lyle standing in front of him, he jumped and almost dropped his game.

  “We’re here to see Pus Face—he’s expecting us.”

  The guard nodded and opened the door so they could enter.

  “Pus Face?” Dylan whispered as they entered. “How’s that treating him with respect?”

  Lyle ignored him and walked immediately to the front of the room, where a man w
as seated at a large desk. The lighting was dim, and a mattress stood upright in front of the window, blocking any natural light from coming into the room.