by Cameron Dane
Hunter blew out a careful breath, trying to keep the tremor inside him hidden. After shutting off the shower, he sluiced water off his freshly cleaned skin and moved to a long bench where he’d piled his fresh set of fatigues. Men all along the line dressed in silence. A bomb exploded in the distance, shaking the temporary structure. For the first time Hunter could remember, nobody even looked up or acknowledged the sound. Not even Will -- the new kid who fucking never shut up, who treated everything like a party, and who Hunter knew would get them all killed someday -- had a word to say tonight.
Hunter followed the group to the mess hall, ate dinner in silence, and then declined to join everyone in the rec area to watch a movie. He went back to his bunk, but rather than lay down to get some sleep, he began pacing the empty makeshift barracks. His brain replayed the ambush outside the small Afghan village, the mass of weapon power and hostiles -- of which they’d had no intel to predict -- coming out of nowhere and pinning them in an abandoned cluster of houses for four days.
Shit. Hunter squeezed his eyes shut as the onslaught of loss took him to his knees. Trey had taken the fatal gunshot to the neck early, and Hunter hadn’t even been able to get to him in a house only a hundred feet away. Motherfucking shit. Hunter stared at the bunk across from his and swore he could see Trey’s lanky frame in the shadows, his cappuccino-colored skin shiny with sweat, and his unique pale, pale, pale blue eyes laughing at one of Hunter’s dirty jokes. Trey would always roll his eyes and say, “You’re a sick fuck, Tenny,” and then by the next day tell everyone whose path he crossed the same joke and take total credit for it.
Just as Hunter chuckled and shook his head in the darkened, empty space, a soft tap sounded at the door. A woman in scrubs pushed open the door but did not enter. Hunter recognized her as one of the camp doctors. He didn’t have to see her eyes to know the truth; the hunch of her slender shoulders silently spoke sentences that sent spikes through Hunter’s gut.
He stumbled to his bunk. “Which one?” he asked, silently praying for a miracle answer he knew he wouldn’t get.
“Both.” The full moon cast her face in a shot of light, highlighting just as many invisible battle scars on her face as the men she worked to save every day. When her tour ended, civilians at home wouldn’t see the marks, but any men or women who’d served time in a battle zone would recognize a fellow soldier in a heartbeat. She scratched her head, dislodging a lopsided ponytail in the process. “We couldn’t recover from Private Regan’s massive blood loss,” she shared, “and Master Sergeant Paxon’s heart stopped on the table. We couldn’t get it started again. I’m so sorry.”
Hunter nodded, trying his damnedest to absorb the breath-stealing blow. “Thank you for coming to tell me.”
She dipped her head and without another word left him alone.
Hunter sat in the dark in silence, rehashing every moment he’d had with not only Trey, Regan, and Paxon, but with every other soldier he’d served with who’d lost his life along the way. Stories about neighboring camps and their losses pushed their way into Hunter’s brain too. Each dead soldier mixed in his mind with the many who would continue to come, the death never ending. His core temperature began to rise, making first his blood and organs heat and then his very flesh burn hotter than walking naked in desert sand in August. Fire burned in Hunter’s throat, a wailing scream trapped there, punching for freedom. Everything kept flaming higher inside him, licking over his skin and leaving burned-out brands of every person he’d ever known and lost scorched into his flesh. By the end, not an inch of Hunter’s body remained unscathed, and the names and faces tormented his soul.
No. No. Hunter pulled at his hair and scowled when the buzzed length didn’t allow him to grip and sting his scalp with pain. No. No. No. Swirling masses of pitch-black storm clouds blurred Hunter’s vision and sank into his pores, clogging every opening in his body. Fuck it, Trey. Hunter swiped across his eyes with a vicious swat, scratching his cheekbone and temple. Why’d you have to be a fucking hero and goddamn die on me?
Shooting up from his bunk, Hunter tore through the empty barracks, prowling as his breathing grew more difficult to maintain. He suddenly erupted with a roar and swept mattresses off beds and lights off little tables, sending clothing flying and bulbs shattering across the floor. Hunter didn’t care. He rammed himself full body into the wall, making the makeshift barrier shake under the force of his hit. Tables skidded across the floor under his kicks and shoves. Hunter growled, straining his arms and shoulders as he yanked bunk beds away from the walls one-handed, two at a time, uncaring that splinters sank into his palms. He welcomed the pain and wanted more of it. Hunter picked up a full storage trunk, raised the massive weight over his head, and charged with it toward the far end of the room. He flung it into a corner, and the momentum of the throw slammed him into the wall. Sharp, immediate pain pierced into Hunter’s shoulder and down his arm, but even seeing spots in front of his eyes didn’t slow him down. He rammed one shoulder and then the other into walls and bunk beds, mindless of anything but Trey and the other men in his unit he would never see again.
Hunter blindly swung his body again, but before he hit the wall this time, someone grabbed him from behind and propelled him away from contact. No. Hunter chopped his arms up, trying to break loose of the hold, but his opponent successfully fought off Hunter’s attack. Leave me alone. Hunter struggled against the arms banded around his chest. His original surge of strength now abandoned him, though, while the other man felt as if he had steel fused to his muscles and bones. Hunter battled, but the other man held on through his fight and eventually took Hunter to his knees.
Still being held in place from behind, Hunter looked over his shoulder into knowing hazel eyes. Private Will Hicks. For once Hunter couldn’t muster any annoyance for the cocky newcomer. Too many faces of the dead still haunted his vision and consumed his thoughts, bringing on a fresh wave of loss.
Hunter looked down at the ground, his body heaving with his efforts to regain control. “I didn’t want to stop.” His broken whisper slipped free through the cracks, overwhelming his command to get himself together. “It didn’t hurt enough yet.”
Will released Hunter and then moved to squat in front of him. “I think it hurt too much.” He assessed through an astute, unwavering gaze Hunter didn’t recognize in the smack-talking twenty-year-old. “The doc came and told us about Regan and Paxon. I might be the new guy in the unit, but I could see you and Trey were tight.” His lush, constantly moving lips compressed into a tight line. “I’m sorry he died.”
“Thank you.” Anguish choked Hunter, so much so he could not hide it, even from this kid.
With a nod, Will rubbed his sandy, trimmed hair and then locked his hands behind his neck. “Look.” Twitching, he moved to wipe his hand across his mouth, to then look away, before finally settling a gaze full of determination on Hunter once again. “If you need to mourn losing Trey in a different way than the rest of us --”
Hunter exploded like a cannonball and shoved the little prick backward onto his ass. He then pinned Will to the floor with a hand around his throat. “I don’t, for fuck’s sake.” He growled into the private’s face. “It wasn’t like that. Christ. Your mind is on sex every second it isn’t focused on fighting the enemy.” Cursing another litany of foul words, Hunter released Will, snarling at the kid as he pushed himself to lean against the side of a trunk. Looking at the guy sideways, Hunter couldn’t care about hiding any of his secrets right now. “Just because you spend every free second in this camp trying to find a pretty girl who’ll let you stick your dick in her doesn’t mean the rest of us feel the same. Staff Sergeant Patterson was not my lover. He was a brother and a friend.”
“Okay. That’s cool.” Will pushed himself to sit upright and then held up the surrender hands. “I’m just saying even if he had been, you could tell me that too.”
Hunter’s mouth twisted into a frown. “You’re so fucking hard up to get laid you want details of everyon
e else’s scoring victories too. Even if it’s with another guy.”
A quick smile lit up the private’s face, making him look about fifteen. “You know it.” As fast as the lighthearted, cheeky grin had appeared, it slipped away, leaving behind a sober soldier whose eyes had seen tragedy and death. “Seriously though, I learned something real quick when I landed in this hellhole,” he said, his stare locked on Hunter. “The army doesn’t pay us shit for what we’re doing here, and most folks stateside damn well don’t care about us for more than a minute when they watch the news. They will never know Regan, Paxon, and Patterson’s names, let alone how brave they were in the face of their deaths. But we do get one side benefit out of wearing this uniform.” Will leaped forward and squatted in front of Hunter, his eyes lit up once again like Christmas trees. “We can get any pussy we want when we go back home. Hell” -- he openly looked Hunter over -- “it isn’t any different for you. You’ll get whatever ass or cock, or whatever the fuck you like, from any dude who thinks you’re halfway sexy. Which you are. Damn, I can dream about titties every night and still see you’re a good-looking guy. You aren’t gonna hurt for tail when you go home, and neither will I.” Pausing, Will studied Hunter with such understanding mixed in with the scrutiny it had Hunter fighting not to weep. “If you think Trey wasn’t jerking off in that bunk every night thinking about the fine women he would have in his bed when his tour ended,” Will said gently, “then you didn’t know the man half as well as you thought you did.”
Tears leaked from the corners of Hunter’s eyes, and his chest burned with an unfathomable pain. “He did fantasize about it.” Trey’s voice, coated with that Brooklyn accent, filled Hunter’s ears right now, as it had done so many times in reality since the day they’d met. “He thought about going home to all those girls who wouldn’t go out with him in high school, and he imagined how they’d think twice about him when he came back wearing his uniform.”
“Hell yes they would have.” Will smacked Hunter’s leg, as if to shout booya and slap a high five. “They would have fallen all over an awesome dude like Trey. The perks to this job are worse than shitty, and out here we only have each other to help keep us sane and alive. But when we go back to the States” -- Will whistled -- “man, that’s gonna be some good shit. We’ll be fucking heroes, and I look forward to finding every girl in Kentucky who wants to spread her legs to welcome me home and say thank you. You just have to keep your eyes on the prize, Tenny.” The private wore a look akin to a starving man stepping up to an all-you-can-eat buffet. “Close ’em and think about walking into a bar in San Francisco and having your choice of the tightest asses and biggest cocks you want.”
Hunter couldn’t believe it, but the cocky little prick tugged a grin out of him. “Not every gay man lives in California,” he shared dryly. “I’m from Montana and plan to go back there after I’ve served my time.”
Will shrugged. “So then think about a cowboy or mountain man. The theory still applies. Whatever it takes to survive without going crazy. Hell, we got so many of them gung-ho patriots back home who ain’t never been near a man in uniform, you could probably get a straight guy to bend over for you. Fuck” -- Will hooted, his eyes gleaming with laughter -- “I probably could too, if I wanted to.”
“Jesus.” Hunter rolled his eyes. “You really do have a one-track mind.”
“It keeps me alive.” Will’s cheekiness slipped away. Once again eyes that had seen too much appeared, making him look a dozen years older than his true age. “I might not look like it, but this isn’t my first tour either, you know. I understand the desire to tear down buildings and punch something until everything stops hurting too.”
Hunter nodded, his heart still heavy but no longer crushing him under the weight. “Only you go jerk off and think about screwing hundreds of women when you get home instead of losing your shit.” He met Will’s gaze. “Is that what you’re saying?”
With a nod back, Will said, “Right now I’m thinking about that doctor. God, she’s pretty as hell. I bet she’s got stamina and could tear me apart in bed.”
“That woman is a captain,” Hunter reminded the private, chuckling. “You are never getting near her bunk.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can still dream. That’s what you need to do too. Start dreaming again, Tenny.” Will’s suggestion felt like a gentle order. “You’re letting the army take that away from you. That’ll surely get you killed faster than an enemy bullet. I don’t want to see that happen. We lost enough guys in our unit this week.” His voice held the scratch of a man who kept the loss tucked just under the surface too. “I want to get through the rest of my tour without losing another man.”
Listening to this young man, seeing the insight and big heart he kept hidden behind sex talk, pushed a new ache into Hunter’s chest. A good one this time. “You have a lot more behind that big mouth of yours than a bunch of loud bullshit.” Holding eye contact, Hunter let Will see into his soul and locked them into a bond he didn’t give many people. “I’m sorry I dismissed you.”
“No need.” Will waved the apology aside. “We’re all brothers here. Come on.” He jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “I’ll help you clean this up before the others get back or the commander makes a visit to pay his condolences.”
For the first time, Hunter really let himself see the damage he’d done to their living quarters. “Shit.” He stumbled under the wave of heartbreak that had pushed him to such a place, and then silently praised God for the compact, foul-mouthed dynamo who’d found him. “Thank you, Private.” Hunter could never say that enough. “I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”
“It’s all good.” Will gave Hunter a solid thwack on the back. “I wanted us to be cool with each other because I found something in one of the abandoned houses we were holed up in that I thought you might like.” The guy found his kit in the mess and withdrew two magazines. “Here.” He tossed one of them at Hunter.
Hunter snagged it out of the air. One look at it had him shaking his head. “Fucking A.” Faded and crinkled as hell, and it had to be thirty years old if it was a day, the magazine Hunter flipped through held photo after photo of nearly naked “body-building” men.
Laughing, Will arched a sandy-colored brow. “Enjoy that, you lucky bastard. At least you don’t have to share it like I’m gonna have to do with this” -- he held up a much newer popular lingerie catalog -- “once the other guys discover I have it.”
“Jesus.” Hunter wondered what military or peacekeeping envoy had traveled through that small Afghan village and left such a thing behind. “Trey would have fought you for that harder than anyone else.” Hunter’s gaze strayed to his friend’s empty bunk, but this time he managed to smile in place of tears. “He once told me seeing women in those little lacy thongs got him hotter than a full-on nudie picture.”
Will flipped through the catalog. “Then we’ll hang this one on the wall” -- he tore out a page and tacked it beside Trey’s bed -- “in honor of him.”
Hunter walked up and took a closer look at the glossy picture of a pretty redhead with her arm strategically placed across her breasts, wearing nothing but a little white triangle of panties. “I like that. More importantly” -- Hunter stood beside Will -- “Trey would love it.”
“Good.” With a nod, Will glanced up at Hunter. “You should put some ointment on that” -- he fingered Hunter’s cheek, and his digit came away with blood -- “or around here it’s gonna get infected.”
“Right.”
Hunter went into his trunk to search for some antibacterial salve. Will turned on a portable CD player, whispered “yes” when the batteries held, and blared an Eminem song as loud as the little single speaker would allow. He shouted along with the raw lyrics while cleaning up Hunter’s mess as if he were tinkering with his car on a sunny afternoon back home in Kentucky. For the first time, not only did the young private’s manner not irritate Hunter, it actually soothed and comforted him.
> Hell, it gave Hunter hope. Made him think he might just get through this deployment after all…
* * *
…“Hunter.” Something nudged Hunter’s shoulder with decided force. “Hunter,” the voice said again.
Jerking away from the contact, Hunter dropped into a crouch and lifted his hands in a defensive pose. His heart rate kicked into fighting gear, but as soon as Hunter blinked, his vision cleared and Luke appeared. Shit.
“Sorry.” Heat crept up Hunter’s neck. He immediately released himself from his attack stance. “You snuck up on me.”
Cocking his head to the side, Luke adopted a familiar at-ease military stance. “Not really. You were sleeping standing up.”
“Damn it.” Turning from left to right, Hunter felt discombobulated. “What time is it?”
“Later than you need to be here considering how early you came in,” Luke replied.
The warmth made its way up Hunter’s face. “I apologize. You don’t have to pay me for the time.”
Luke snorted. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m thinking about you.”
“I came in to check on Hercules.” Hunter’s gaze naturally drifted to the horse. The animal had settled, but Hunter didn’t dare press Hercules’s boundaries tonight and rile him up again. “I guess I nodded off,” he admitted, coming back to his dark-haired boss.
“And you still look like you’re about to fall over.” Luke stepped closer, and Hunter’s temperature dropped. He was sure the man could see every physical and emotional weakness living inside him. “Why don’t you crash on our couch tonight?” Luke asked. “I don’t want to feel responsible for an accident.”
“No.” Hunter stepped back and bumped right into the wall. “I couldn’t impose on the two of you.”