by J. E. Parker
The radio crackled. “And if they engage?”
I gritted my teeth at the thought. “Then light them the fuck up.”
Tossing the radio down, I leaned down and opened the box of MRE’s. After grabbing an armful, I started handing them out to the herd of kids—mostly boys between six and twelve years old—that had descended on us. I started with the youngest, the most vulnerable, and worked my way through the crowd.
“Mister, Mister!” An older boy from the back shouted. “Water. Thirsty.” I eyed the kid suspiciously. I hated to admit it because he was just a kid—around twelve I guess—but his presence put me on edge. When I looked at him, hate-filled eyes met mine. “Water,” he repeated, his voice an edge harder.
Ryker tossed him an unopened bottle.
Unlike MRE’s, water was something that we didn’t have an over abundance of.
With a smirk, the kid twisted the cap off the bottle, positioned it above him, and tipped the container over, dumping the water on his head.
Ryker lost it. “You greedy little shit!” he yelled, startling the rest of the kids and moving toward the boy. “I thought you were thirsty.”
I stepped forward and grabbed his arm, halting his progress. He never would’ve hurt the kid, but we weren’t in a position where we needed to piss the locals off. They were our pipeline of information about hot-houses in the area. If we lost that, our job of helping to stabilize the city would become a lot harder.
“Calm down,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “He’s just a stupid kid.”
Ryker was irate. “Fucking brat did that on purpose!” The kid's smile grew. He understood every word Ry was saying. “That could’ve gone to somebody who actually needed it.”
I squeezed his arm harder. “Calm down.” My fingers dug into his bicep. “That’s an order.” Even though we’d enlisted together, I’d gained rank faster than Ryker. I’d never thrown my weight around and pulled rank on him before but at that moment I did. “I’m serious, Peterson,” I said, calling him by his last name. “Stand. Down.”
Muttering another curse under his breath, he jerked his arm out of my grasp and walked toward the back of the Humvee to calm down. I let him go. I didn’t need his help, anyway. Most of the kids had already dispersed. Only a few remained.
My eyes searched the dwindling group until they landed on the person I'd been looking for.
There she is...
Standing about twenty feet away was a little girl around four years old. I didn’t know her name and she couldn’t speak English, but she was the second cutest little girl I’d ever seen. With big brown eyes, jet black hair, and skin paler than most, she reminded me of Hope.
Seeing her helped ease the ever-present ache in my chest.
I held up a lone finger in the air. “One sec, sweetheart.”
Even though she couldn’t understand the words I spoke, she still smiled.
She knew what was coming.
I reached back into the Humvee and picked up a brown bag. Shifting her weight between her feet, she craned her neck to see what I was doing.
Holding the bag in one hand, I shoved my other hand in and pulled out three full-sized Hershey Bars. Hope had sent Ryker and me fifty of them the week before.
The little girl sprinted forward. “Choc-a-lot-tay!” she screamed in excitement, mispronouncing the only English word I’d ever heard her attempt to speak.
She came to a sliding stop three feet in front of me.
I handed her the bars. She snatched them from my hand, offering me a huge, genuine smile. “Choc-a-lot-tay.”
Ryker appeared beside me. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, wide-eyed. It was the first time he’d seen the little girl. Every other time she’d appeared, he’d been busy helping the other kids. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
I nodded once. “Yeah, man.” I paused. “Reminds me of Hope too.”
Pale as a ghost, Ryker handed the little girl a bottle of water.
Staring at him with questioning eyes, she took it. Then, she beamed a smile at him.
Ryker smiled right back.
Without saying another word, the little girl turned and ran toward a row of dilapidated buildings. A minute later, she disappeared down an alleyway. My heart dropped to my stomach.
I hated the thought of her running around with no one to watch after her.
It made me sick to think about something bad happening to her.
“Dude,” Ryker whispered, still staring at the place where she’d disappeared. “I can’t believe that.” His eyes found mine. “She looked like she could be Hope’s daughter or something.” A few moments of silence ticked by. Then, “Will she come back?” Ryker sounded somewhat hopeful.
I nodded. “Yeah”—I clenched my hands into fists—“We’ll see her again.”
It was the truth. We would see the little girl again.
But the next time we saw her, none of us would be smiling. Because the next time we saw her, it would change our lives irrevocably.
Four
Evan
Ten Hours Later
The sun had set; the temperature had dropped.
It was Heaven.
Leaning back against the front of a bullet-riddled building, I chewed on the end of a toothpick. “It’s almost time to head back to base,” I told Ryker who was standing ten feet to my left. I pointed across the street to a couple of marines that were headed our way. “Our relief is here.”
Ryker exhaled in relief. “About time.” Taking off his helmet, he ran his hands through his messy, black hair. “I’m going to see if I can get my hands on a SAT phone and call Hope.” A look of anguish crossed his face. “I miss my shortcake, man.” Lifting his head toward the night sky, he closed his eyes. “I don’t understand how some siblings hate each other. I love the hell out of my little sister. I can’t imagine life without her.”
Sliding a hand into my pocket, I curled my fingers around the drawing I’d taken from Hope the night before I left Tennessee. I pulled it out and lifted the folded sheet to my nose. Inhaling deeply, I tried to catch a hint of her signature scent. I got nothing. Her smell was long gone, having been replaced by the scent of gunpowder and sweat.
Frustrated, I slipped the picture back into my pocket and stared down at the bracelet that adorned my wrist. The moon glinted off the metal. The reflection danced across Ryker’s chest.
“I can’t imagine life without her either.” I straightened my spine. Tired of hiding my feelings for her, I said the one thing that I swore to keep to myself until we left Iraq. “Hope’s my girl.”
Ryker’s narrowed eyes met mine. He remained silent.
I could practically see the wheels in his head turning.
He opened his mouth to say something but then snapped it shut when a flash of movement to the left caught our attention. We simultaneously lifted our rifles in the air, fingers on the trigger.
Locate the threat. Confirm it. Eradicate it.
Three boys, ranging in ages from around ten to fifteen darted across the street. They were chasing something but just what that something was, I didn’t know. I only saw them.
But when I saw what—or who—they were chasing, my rage skyrocketed.
It was her... the little girl who could’ve been Hope’s twin.
Her face was scrunched up in fear. Her eyes were filled with tears.
A second later, another boy appeared. This one I recognized. It was the little shit who’d dumped the water over his head earlier in the day. He looked thrilled, ecstatic even, to be chasing the little girl. In one hand he held a metal rod. It was about two foot long, maybe two inches thick. On the other hand, he held a softball sized rock of some sort.
He shouted something in Arabic that I didn’t understand. I didn’t miss the venom that dripped from his anger-laced words though. He raised his arm to throw the rock at the little girl.
Oh hell noooo, I thought to myself as I gave chase.
“Ry,” I shouted as my feet pounded the pavem
ent. “Cover my ass!”
It was stupid, so fucking stupid, to chase after them, but I did it anyway.
I wasn’t supposed to engage, wasn’t supposed to stick my nose in the private business of Iraqi citizens, but I couldn’t stand by and watch those little fuckers stone, beat, and do whatever else they had planned to the little girl. My brain may have been screaming that this was wrong—reckless even—but my heart screamed the opposite.
What if it was Hope?
The little girl turned a corner, disappearing out of sight.
The boys followed her.
I followed them.
Five seconds later, shouting ensued in the distance.
Willing my legs to move faster, I gripped my rifle tight and turned the same corner.
What I saw next made my gut twist.
The boys hadn’t caught the little girl.
A full grown man had.
He was older, tall, rail thin, and had a salt and pepper colored beard that hung down to his chest. He held the little girl up by one arm while he used a rod similar to the one the boy chasing her had been carrying to beat her. He struck her lower back, her hips, her legs. Her screams ripped through the quiet night, echoing off the buildings that surrounded us.
Aiming the barrel of my rifle at his chest, I screamed, “Stop!”
The man froze mid-swing and looked over at me. He looked dumbfounded, completely oblivious to the reason I was shouting at him. I looked from him to the little girl. Tears streamed down her rosy red cheeks. Melted chocolate stained her lips.
My blood boiled. “Don’t you dare fucking hit her again!”
Footsteps sounded behind me. Ryker and the rest of my men were coming.
The man’s look of bewilderment faded and a look of disgust replaced it. He let loose a string of Arabic that I didn’t understand. Looking down at the little girl, he shook her. Her head snapped back so hard I was surprised her neck didn’t break. “American!” he shouted at her.
She shook her head back and forth frantically.
The boy who’d dumped water over his head sneered at her. He then pointed at me and said, “Chocolate”.
My heart stopped and my insides twisted as understanding dawned on me.
All of this was happening because I’d given her chocolate.
It was my fault.
Every bit of it.
Ryker came to a running stop beside me. “Oh fuck.”
The sound of my heart slamming against my ribcage echoed in my ears. Keeping my rifle aimed at the old man’s chest, I moved forward. “Let her go.” I couldn’t stand it anymore. Seeing her being beaten was bad enough. But knowing that I’d caused it? I couldn’t handle that.
One way or another, I had to fix it.
I naively thought I could… I was wrong.
“Drop the rod,” I demanded, gesturing toward the stick with my gun. “I’m warning you now, if you hit her with it one more time I will blow your head off.” The man smiled. He may not have understood the words I was speaking, but he knew what I was saying. “Drop it!”
Lowering his arm, he loosened his grip on the rod.
It fell from his hand, landing on the dirt covered ground.
Pulling his hard eyes from mine, he looked to his right.
Then, he smiled.
Goosebumps erupted along my arms and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Something was wrong.
Before my brain could compute what was happening, the little girl’s head snapped to the right and her gaze followed the trajectory of the old man's. Mouth gaping, her eyes swung back to me. She raised an arm in the air and pointed toward a dark building to the side.
She was warning me.
Before I could react, men spilled out of the building brandishing AK-47’s.
One pointed his rifle at me. Ry screamed from behind me. “Evan!”
I turned my body to the side, making myself a smaller target. I aimed my gun and began to pull back on the trigger, fully intent on ending his life.
I wasn’t fast enough.
The man, a kid really judging by the looks of him, had already pulled the trigger.
My vision tunneled. Time slowed. My hearing dulled.
Hope’s beautiful face flashed before my eyes.
I love you, I heard her say. More than all the stars in the sky.
Impact.
My back hit the ground, knocking the air from my lungs. My head snapped back—hard—before bouncing off a busted piece of concrete. I saw stars. Literally.
I stared up at the night sky as gunfire erupted all around me.
The moon was full, the stars were bright.
Hope…
I sucked in a breath, trying to feel where the bullet had entered my body. The hit had been so hard, so sudden, that I couldn’t pinpoint it. But something heavy was laying on top of me, weighing me down.
The fog surrounding my brain began to clear.
Labored breathing that wasn’t my own met my ears.
Gurgling sounds came next.
Then, “Ev…” Ryker’s voice was weak and filled with pain.
My head snapped up, my vision swam. I blinked rapidly to clear it.
That’s when I saw him.
Reality slammed into me. “No.” Panicked, I pushed to my elbows and shook my head. “No!” Ryker was lying across me, his chest pressed against my stomach. Blood coated his neck and left arm. I pushed myself up further. Agonizing pain seared my side. “Ryker!”
He didn’t answer me.
I grabbed him by his shoulders and flipped him onto his back. His unfocused eyes were only half open. Face pale, his breathing was erratic and choppy.
A bullet wound marred the side of his neck.
“No,” I gripped his shirt tight. “Oh hell no.” I looked around for a corpsman. “Doc!” I screamed as loud as I could. “I need a doc!”
Pressing my hands against the side of Ryker’s neck, I tried my best to ebb the flow of blood that seeped from the open wound. “Ry, man, you’ve got to hang on for me.” I pressed harder even though deep down I knew it was too late. I wasn’t a medic, but it was obvious the bullet had hit an artery. That wasn’t a wound that we could fix in the field. “Man…” My voice died as my throat began to close. “You can’t do this.” Ry’s eyes stared off into the distance. He was fading, slipping away. “You can’t do this to me!”
“Ev…” His lips began to turn blue. “I need you…” Ryker coughed and blood spilled from his lips. Internally I screamed. I screamed so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. “My s-shortc-cake.” His eyes grew glassy. “T-take care…”
Fuck no!
This wasn’t happening.
Ryker’s hand weakly touched the bracelet Hope made for me. His finger rested weakly on the metal infinity symbol. “My b-baby sis…”
I continued to hold the pressure on his wound as a tear dropped from my eye and landed on his chest. “I’ll take care of her.” I could hardly speak. “I’ll take care of Hope.”
He coughed again before wheezing in a ragged breath. “P-promise m-me.”
I nodded. “I promise, Ry.” Another tear fell. “I fucking swear it.”
At my words, Ryker wheezed one last time.
A moment later, his chest stopped rising and his heart ceased beating.
On September 30th, at ten minutes before midnight, Ryker Peterson, my best friend and the man I’d loved like a brother since I was five years old, died.
Part of me died right along with him.
Five
Hope
Five Months Later
Toluca, GA
I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor of the Shelter’s kitchen with a steel bristled brush, when Maddie walked into the room wearing a pensive expression on her face. Wringing her hands in front of her, she stared at me with worry-filled eyes.
I dropped the brush I’d been holding and sat back on my calves.
“What’s wrong?” My voice cracked on
the last syllable.
I’d known Maddie since I was eighteen. We’d been roommates our freshmen year at Vanderbilt, and she even lived with my mama after she was forced to drop out of college due to unforeseen circumstances. It was because of her I’d moved to Georgia and taken the job in Toluca to begin with. I wanted to be near her and she needed to be near me.
I was her lifeline, and she was my best friend.
And being my best friend, I had the ability to read her like a book.
All it took was one look at her pretty, freckle covered face and I knew…
Something is seriously wrong.
At the thought, the ever present pressure in my chest began to build. “Maddie.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around my midsection.
Hold yourself together.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Her hands shook. “The guard from the gate just radioed me.” Taking a step forward, she visibly swallowed. “He’s, uh…” My belly rolled as I anticipated her next words. “He’s here, Hope.” My heart froze in my chest. “Evan is here.” A lone tear fell from her eyes as she pointed behind her. “He’s at the gate. I didn’t know—”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
Without uttering a single word, I took off running.
“Hope!” Maddie screamed as she chased after me. “Wait!”
No.
My feet pounded the vinyl tiled floor as I ran as hard as I could toward the front entrance of the Shelter. Outside, I could hear a violent storm bearing down on us. I didn’t care though. My only thoughts revolved around getting to Evan.
The metal exit door felt cool against my palms as I pushed it open.
Sucking in a breath, I ran outside and into the waiting storm.
Then, I stopped.
Rain poured from the black clouds above, thunder bellowed all around me, and bright streaks of lightning danced across the sky. It was mid-afternoon yet it was almost as dark as midnight. I could hardly see five feet in front of me, much less all the way to the metal gate that protected the Shelter from the outside world.