by Lyn Cote
“Masks off!” the DI shouted.
Carly tried to pull off her mask, but she couldn’t force herself to obey. Her arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. The DI reached over and yanked off her mask. Carly gasped for air, and suddenly her lungs were on fire. She wheezed and choked. She pushed her way toward the door that the DI barred. Her last bit of control and caution stopped her—just before she screamed incoherently, before she shoved the DI out of her way. Then the DI stepped aside and opened the door. Carly charged out and fell to the ground, gasping, shaking, tears pouring from her eyes. Her skin tingled and her throat burned.
All around her, her fellow soldiers swiped their streaming eyes. Most were still standing, but they were bent over with their hands braced on their knees. Carly looked up into Alex’s red eyes. “That was awful.”
Bent over, Alex nodded, wheezing.
“Now,” their DI explained, “you can have confidence that your gas mask will protect you from whatever poison might be emitted into the air. Those of you who kept your heads, stayed calm—you minimized your contact by breathing as little as possible. Those of you who are experiencing a marked reaction to the CS should learn from those who handled the situation better.”
Carly stared at the woman and hoped that never again would she be in the situation where she would have to put on her gas mask. It was too much like all her childhood fears tied up into one terrible lump. But pride flickered for a moment. She hadn’t had a bad dream for weeks, and today, she had survived. Once again she’d survived.
Carly couldn’t believe that basic training was coming to an end. In another week, she and her fellow soldiers would take their end-of-cycle tests. If they passed, they would go through their graduation ceremony and become E-2s—real soldiers. The big event they all looked forward to now was seeing their families at graduation and having a few days off before they reported to their MOS, military occupational specialty. But first, they had to survive their final test, night infiltration training.
Two days before, they’d moved out of their unair-conditioned barracks into the sweltering field for their bivouac—setting up tents, eating field rations or MREs, and sleeping on the ground. Deep summer with its muggy heat, mosquitoes, and chiggers had done its part to make it a challenging expedition.
The final night of the bivouac, the air began to cool down. While standing in tight formation, the recruits listened to their drill sergeant’s instructions: “Tonight, you will work together in ten-person squads. You will be in full battle gear, carrying your weapon. Your squad will cover an obstacle course laced with barbed wire. You will wear your flak jacket because live ammunition will be fired overhead. This exercise will test your abilities to work as a team and to make it through battle conditions. Any questions?”
Live ammunition? No wonder they would be wearing their flak jackets and helmets. Carly couldn’t think of a thing to ask. Evidently no one else could either.
“All right, break into your squads. Squad one, you will be headed up by Private Rains, and you will begin as soon as the machine guns begin firing.”
Machine guns? Francie as the leader? Francie was the one who always needed help. Carly had, of course, along with her battle buddy, Alex, landed in squad one. Carly waited tense and silent, holding her weapon in front of her. Sweat poured down her face. Nearby a machine gun fired, spitting out shells that exploded the darkness with flashes of light.
“Go!” the DI shouted at squad one.
Carly and the rest of the ten dropped to their stomachs and began crawling toward the first line of wire. Through their sleeves, rocks dug into their flesh and bit their elbows. Francie reached the wire first and lifted it with the barrel of her weapon as she slid on her back under it.
Digging her elbows into the dirt, Carly stayed right behind Francie. Around them, the other members made it through the first obstacle. A simulated explosion like fireworks burst right beside them. Carly jerked in shock. Dust filled her mouth.
In rapid succession, explosions threw up dirt, flashing light and releasing smoke. Carly heard bullets thudding in the field beyond them. As she crawled through the second obstacle, the barbed wire tangled in her collar. She halted. “Caught,” she gasped.
“Alex, take care of it,” Francie ordered, looking over her shoulder, her foot by Carly’s nose. Then Francie moved on.
Carly did not want Alex touching her. She slid forward, trying to let the barbed wire rip through the cloth and free her. But the front of her collar caught and held at her throat.
“Don’t move!” Alex yelled. “It’s about to rip into the skin on your back.”
Carly froze. She felt Alex slide on her back beside her, lifting the wire away from her skin with the barrel of her weapon.
“I need help!” Alex called. “I can only hold the wire up. I can’t cut it out.”
Another squad member slid up on Carly’s other side. The girl’s cheek lay against the dirt. She pulled out a pocketknife. Carly closed her eyes and held perfectly still. She heard the cloth rip and felt the tug against her collar.
“You’re free,” Alex gasped. “I’ll hold it. Get moving.”
Carly surged forward as flat as she could, heading for the next obstacle, a gentle rise. Soon she was surrounded by other squad members, all grunting with exertion. She had no time to worry, she had time only to move. The whirlwind of sound pounded through her until she felt nauseated and her ears roared from the constantly firing machine guns.
“Last obstacle!” Francie yelled. And then she screamed—a real scream.
Carly dug in her elbows and slithered forward. Alex was right beside her. “I’ll hold up the barbed wire,” Alex shouted. “You get to her first.”
Carly increased her speed. Alex slid forward as if making home base and suspended the wire above Carly. Carly reached Francie. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m hit,” Francie gasped, “really hit!”
Carly wanted to deny the possibility, but the machine guns were still firing and bullets had to be landing somewhere. Then she saw the blood. “It’s your arm.” Carly raised her voice. “Soldier down!”
Bent over, the sergeant jogged to the sideline near their obstacle. “Move out. The next squad is going to be right on top of you.”
“Francie’s been hit, stray bullet!” Carly shouted.
“Get her out of there then!”
With Alex’s help, Carly dragged Francie beyond the infiltration course finish line. Then the sergeant joined them but sat back on her haunches. “Go on,” she said, “you know what to do.”
Carly sat up beside Francie and, using her pocket knife, she ripped open Francie’s sleeve. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“It burns,” Francie said in a tight little voice.
Carly nodded as she ripped away Francie’s sleeve and used it as a field bandage around the wound. She wrapped it twice tightly and tied it, and the blood stopped.
“Right,” the sergeant said. “Help your squad leader to the first-aid station and have the medic see if it is serious enough for her to go to the infirmary.”
With Carly on one side and Alex on the other, they helped Francie move away from the finish line. Conscious of the live ammunition still flying overhead nearby, all of the squad jogged parallel to the ground, hurrying behind Francie. Beyond the course, they located an ambulance they hadn’t realized was there. A medic leaped down. “What is it?”
Carly let Alex explain. With Alex’s help, the medic assisted Francie into the ambulance and onto a gurney. Carly climbed in and Alex waited nearby. Carly watched as the medic took off her battle dressing. The medic swabbed the wound with antiseptic and bandaged it professionally. “That will do for now,” the woman said. “But before I leave tonight, I’ll give you some pain medication for later, Private Rains.”
“Shouldn’t she go to the infirmary?” Alex asked. “She was really bleeding.”
“No, the flesh wound will heal on its own.” The medic turned to Francie. “Just
stop in the infirmary every day for the next couple of days for your antibiotic. You’ll be fine.” Then the medic handed Francie a tall bottle of spring water and two antibiotic pills to swallow. “Help her down and outside. Sit there and wait for your sergeant. She will check on you when the exercise is done.”
The ten of them sat in a semicircle around Francie, who leaned back against the wheel of the ambulance. She took the pills and a swallow of the water, then handed Carly the bottle. “Have some. If I drink any more, I’ll be sick.” Francie closed her eyes.
Suddenly aware of being hot and sweaty, Carly took the bottle. The thirst to taste ice-cold water overcame her hesitance. She leaned back and squirted the water into her mouth, the best she’d ever tasted. Then she handed the bottle to Alex, who imitated her. The sixteen-ounce bottle lasted all the way around the semicircle. They all sat, still covered with dirt, still winded, still hot and miserable. But each grinned as the cool water hit the inside of her mouth. One of them started to giggle. And then all of them were giggling.
Francie opened her eyes and gave a half-smile. “We made it.”
Carly rested, with arms propped behind her. She realized that Alex was watching her. Twice during the obstacle course, her adversary had helped her. Was Alex changing? Or was she just putting on a good act?
CHAPTER SIX
A week later
In front of the shoulder-high mirror in the barracks’ industrial gray lavatory, Carly twisted from one side to the other. Feeling like a bright new copper penny, she was trying to see as much as possible of the first dress uniform she’d just been issued. Though she had been slender when she’d arrived at camp, she’d lost a whole size in basic. That hadn’t surprised her, after all the physical activity they’d done.
“Why don’t they have a full-length mirror in here?” tiny Francie fussed, standing on her tiptoes trying and failing to see more than the collar of her uniform.
“I guess you can put women in the army, but you can’t change the fact that men run the army. And,” Carly teased, “we all know men never look into mirrors.”
“Yeah, right.” Alex stood in the doorway. “Francie, the DI wants to talk to you.”
With a worried glance at Carly, Francie left quickly, the short heels on her pumps clicking on the polished wooden floor.
Ready to leave, Carly walked toward Alex. She wondered if Alex would simply let her be or if her adversary would have something cutting to say. Alex had mellowed over the past month. Carly hoped that this was the result of the counseling; still, she prepared to defend herself if necessary.
Without a word, Alex stepped back and let Carly walk past her. Carly looked around and realized that she and Alex were alone in the barracks. Everyone else had already changed and left for chow. Had the DI really summoned Francie? Or had Alex set Carly up again? She felt her muscles tense, ready to strike back.
“My counselor said that it was time that you and me had a talk,” Alex muttered without making eye contact with Carly. She moved sideways to stand by her gray metal locker.
Wary, Carly went to her locker and began unbuttoning her dress uniform jacket. I don’t want to have a talk with you. “We don’t have much time,” Carly hedged.
“What I have to say won’t take long,” Alex snapped. She stopped and took a long, deep breath. Still avoiding Carly’s eyes, she focused on hanging her jacket on a hanger in her locker. “I’m supposed to tell you”—her voice was low and level—“why I had it in for you. And . . . I’m supposed to apologize.”
Carly didn’t know what to say in response to this level of honesty. “Oh?”
“I don’t want to get into it too much.” Alex turned slightly away from Carly and began unbuttoning her dress blouse. “It’s this way. My mom remarried last year.”
Working the buttons of her dress blouse also, Carly waited to hear Alex’s explanation. It had better be good.
“The guy is a real creep, all right?” Alex blustered. “I tried to talk my mom out of marrying him. But she did it anyway.”
Carly felt sorry for Alex—just a little bit—and also she felt a little guilty. The best thing her mother had ever done for her had been marrying her stepfather. And now Nate was her adoptive father, since he had finished the legal procedure just before Carly left home. Still, what did Alex’s having a creep for a stepfather have to do with picking on her?
“He started making moves on me right after they came back from their honeymoon.” Alex’s voice dropped lower, taking on a quality of shame and then pain. “I told my mom, but she wouldn’t believe me.”
Carly didn’t like hearing that. She didn’t really want to be part of this conversation. She slipped off her blouse, hung it on the hanger, and carefully smoothed it as she put it away. The wall of caution between her and Alex was showing stress fractures.
“To get to the point—I decided I had to get out. I ran away a couple times. And I had a couple of big fights with the creep. Mom got real angry with me. Said I was trying to ruin her ‘chance at happiness.’” Alex’s voice flowed with sarcasm. “Yeah, right—”
“What does this have to with me?” Carly interrupted, trying to shore up her defenses against the girl who’d tormented her so unjustly. I’m sorry for you, but this doesn’t involve me, Alex.
“I didn’t want to enlist.” Her back to Carly, Alex swallowed something that sounded like a sob. “She made me quit high school and take my GED. And then she took me to the recruiter and made me sign up for the army.”
Carly paused and looked at Alex’s back, sympathy flickering to life. What must being sent away by a mother feel like? At least her own mother’s objections to Carly’s enlisting had been expected, and she’d wanted to keep her daughter nearby.
“It was okay.” Alex shrugged and turned back. “Because then I could get away from him.” Alex’s chin quivered. “But I didn’t want to leave my mother and my little brothers. Those little guys . . .” Alex’s mouth twisted into an attempt at the smile. “I love those little guys.”
Carly’s love for her own little brother blazed through her. Carly gazed at her adversary, seeing the suffering Alex was trying to hide.
For a split second, Alex returned the gaze. Then her eyes shifted away. “Anyway I was just really mad when I got here. And then I saw you in front of me at the reception hall with all your designer clothes and diamond earrings. I think my mom married this jerk because he works a good job and we were so poor—I mean after my real dad left. And I thought if we’d had money like you, she wouldn’t have had to marry the creep.”
It came clear. “So you took it out on me?” Carly asked softly.
Alex nodded, looking dejected and guilty. “That was wrong. And stupid. And immature.” She looked Carly directly in the eye at last. “But I’m feeling better now that I have talked things over with the counselor. And I talked to the priest here on base. They’re helping me figure things out and get everything straight. I don’t want to go home—boy, I really don’t want that. I want to do my term of duty and then go to school and have a good life.”
“That’s what I want, too,” Carly said gently, gripping the sharp edge of her locker door.
“Can I ask you a question then?” Alex’s eyes again slid away.
“Okay,” Carly said hesitantly.
“Why did you enlist? It’s obvious you have money or your family does. So why?”
Why indeed? “Haven’t you ever heard ‘Money isn’t everything’?”
Glancing up, Alex looked hurt and irritated, as if Carly were brushing her off.
Carly grimaced. Alex had opened up and Carly knew Alex needed to know that she could be real with some people. More than that she needed to know—money or not—Carly didn’t have the perfect life. Carly leaned closer to Alex. “This is in confidence, okay? I never tell people this.”
Alex stared at her, and then nodded slowly.
“You know your father, right? Your birth father?” Carly said, preparing to lay herself open, make hers
elf vulnerable, too. It was painful, like pulling stitches out of a half-healed wound.
“Yeah, but he left us.”
“Well, you’re still da> of me.” Carly drew even nearer Alex. “I’ve never known my father. I’m illegitimate. And my mother won’t tell me who my father is.”
Wide-eyed, Alex gazed at her, evidently digesting this. “Heavy.”
Should she, could she tell this woman about her father’s coming to graduation? No.
Then, as if to lighten the load she carried, Carly reached up, stretching. She looked into Alex’s deep brown eyes. “My great-great-aunt Kitty, who is almost ninety-three, once told me when I was very angry at my mother . . .” Carly paused, wondering if she was saying too much.
“Yeah?”
“Aunt Kitty said no one gets through this life without problems. So never look at someone and think, She has it easy, no problems. It’s always a lie.”
Solemnly Alex nodded and slipped out of her skirt. She hung it up on the skirt hanger and then turned back to Carly. “I’m real sorry about ragging on you.” She reached into her locker and took out a twisted paper napkin. “Here.” She handed it to Carly. “You’ll want to wear these to graduation.”
Carly took the paper and untwisted it. Her diamond earrings dropped out into her palm. Words failed her at first. “I thought I’d lost them. They were a gift from Aunt Kitty.”
“I was watching you that night, and I saw you stash something. I didn’t have a chance to look until a week later.” Alex’s face flamed. “I was out of line. Forgive me?” She offered Carly her hand. Her expression said that she wasn’t sure of Carly’s response.
Carly stared at Alex’s hand. Was she adult enough to accept a fellow soldier’s apology? Yes, she was. Carly squeezed Alex’s hand once. She didn’t want to say what Nate and Kitty would have said in this situation, but she couldn’t remain silent. “No hard feelings.”