Avenging Home

by Angery American

  Eustis is through the gate. The radio crackled. It was now fully on. I glanced down the line and saw sporadic fire coming from some of our positions. Red tracers would race out from our line in short bursts. Then off to my right front, there was another large explosion. I could see men falling out the back of a burning truck. After a moment, there was a large bright yellow flash. Thick flames shot high into the sky, and even in the darkness I could see the intensely thick inky black could of smoke rising into the predawn sky.

  The camp’s occupants were caught completely off guard and were obviously not prepared for what happened. As the Guard pushed farther into the camp, the camp occupants started to panic and run. And they ran straight towards us. I dropped the M1 and got behind the saw. We were the last ones on our line, so it was important for me to keep anyone from getting around. Snugging the weapon to my shoulder, I squeezed the trigger.

  I fired seven or eight-round bursts at the figures running towards me. They fell like grass before a scythe. All down our line now everyone was firing. Now it was a continuous steady stream of red tracers. The sound was intense. It was so damn loud. But when the radio crackled again, I heard the call.

  Saber One One is Winchester.

  Saber One Two is Winchester.

  Jefe, Swamp Rat.

  Go for Swamp Rat. Sarge’s voice came over the radio with the sound of heavy automatic weapon fire in the background.

  Swamp Rat you’ve got Tangos maneuvering to the east. We’ll come over and hit them with the door guns.

  Roger that, Jefe. Morgan, you see them?”

  I pulled the NVGs back down over my eyes and looked to my right. There were about a dozen people running from the attack. I don’t think I’d call it maneuvering, but they were certainly moving. I moved Lee Ann out of the way and shifted the weapon, opening up on them. Then I heard the Blackhawk come in and a gunner up there turned a Minigun lose on them as well. It was hellish. We cut all of them down. The sound of the Minigun and stream of tracers made me think of some heavenly demon opening his mouth and vomiting fire and death down onto those below. The sound, the sight, it was truly terrible. The last one to fall, hit the ground and tried to get back up. I stopped that with a burst to his chest. With that, my end of the line went quiet. I saw no other figures.

  The radio crackled again with a terrifying message. We’re being overrun!

  It was Dalton. And while he was certainly excited, he was calm and spoke clearly.

  With only four teams on the line, our positions were a couple hundred yards apart. Plenty of room for people to sneak through. Keying my radio, I said, “Our end is quiet. We’re moving to support Danny and Dalton!”

  I took a minute to add the last belt of ammo to the one trailing out of the SAW. Then I told Lee Ann to follow me. We ran along the marsh looking for Danny and Dalton. I heard them before I saw them. I could hear Dalton shouting, screaming at the top of his lungs. Then their position came into sight. It was above us on the crest of a small hill. I could clearly see Dalton standing up and firing. Coming up to the top of the hill, I was shocked to see so many people rushing towards them.

  I told Lee Ann to shoot and dropped to the ground to get the SAW into the fight. Something must have happened to theirs as it was quiet. We started on the back of the group and made short work of them. The front part of the group made it to their position and quickly devolved into hand to hand fighting. I was trying to cover them, but couldn’t fire because they were mixed up. I told Lee Ann to stay put and grabbed the shotgun and took off running.

  Dalton was swinging his AK like a club, holding it by the barrel. Danny was on his back firing his pistol point blank into them. Dalton hit a man in the head and snapped the stock off his weapon. He didn’t miss a beat, pulling his Kukri from its sheath and snatching the tomahawk from where it was tucked into his belt. The first poor soul to encounter him was hacked up immediately. Dalton used the hawk to hook the man’s arm and pull it out of the way and force him off balance. He then smashed the head of the hawk into his face and drove the Kukri up under his ribs and into his chest. The man was done.

  Kicking the body off his blade, Dalton hoisted the edged weapons over his head and screamed, “Men and lads! Wet your edges on me!” Like some sort of psycho. He then charged headlong into them. I was running towards him, firing the shotgun as fast as I could. Danny was now back on his feet and had his carbine working. I was reloading the Mossberg when a body slammed into me, sending both of us crashing to the ground.

  I looked up to see a wild-eyed bearded man scrambling for the shotgun. He would get to it before I did. Then, as the sky was beginning to lighten to the coming dawn, I recognized him. It was Billy. I went to draw my pistol and it wasn’t there. I groped at the empty holster and looked at it in disbelief. Then I remembered the hawk Dalton gave me. Snatching it from my vest I crawled after Billy. He was about two feet from the Mossberg when I slammed the head of the hawk into his calf.

  He howled in pain. But his screaming reached a new level when I took a double-handed grip on the hickory handle of the hawk and pulled him back towards me. But I didn’t think that out all the way, and he smashed a bare foot into my nose, breaking it. I lost my grip on the hawk as my head spun and my eyes watered. Rolling onto my back, I looked over to see Billy trying to get to his feet. He was close to me, so I pulled the ESEE from its sheath and slammed it into the top of his foot. He howled again as he fell, knocking the hawk free.

  Picking it up with my free hand, I sank the knife into his thigh and used it for a grip to drag myself over to him. He was screaming in pain and flailing at me. I swung the hawk at his hands. It hit his right hand between the third and fourth finger, nearly cleaving it in half. He screamed again as he held the mangled appendage up before him.

  I climbed on top of him, straddling him. Looking down at him, blood ran from my nose and onto his face. He took a swing at me with his left that I easily dodged. Not wanting to give him another chance, I screamed as I brought the hawk back over my head. “I told you I’d fucking kill you!”

  Billy’s eyes went wide as the piece of forged iron arched down towards him, slamming into his forehead. I wrenched it free and hit him again and again. I was covered in blood, mine and his. Breathing heavily, I pulled the hawk from his destroyed head. A pair of boots came into view and I looked up to see Dalton with a garish smile on his face, tomahawk in one hand and Kukri in the other. Both dripping blood. He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand and said, “Fun ain’t it?”

  As I tried to get up, I replied, “I don’t know about fun.”

  He offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. Once on my feet, I noticed the shooting had died down. There was still sporadic fire in the camp, but it all seemed to be concentrated in one area. I could hear faint radio chatter, very faint, and realized the ear bud had been knocked from my ear. I put it back in my ear as I searched for my pistol, finding it not far from where Billy and I had collided.

  I caught the end of Sarge saying to rally at the swimming pools. I looked around at the bodies on the ground and checked on Danny. He was on the ground fumbling with a bandage.

  Kneeling down, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Something hit my shoulder.”

  Dalton was there quickly as well and ripped open Danny’s shirt. There was a small hole just below the collarbone. Dalton and I got him wrapped up and onto his feet.

  “Can you move?” Dalton asked.

  “Yeah, just hand me my rifle.”

  I handed him his carbine and smiled. “Let’s go finish this.”

  He shook his head. “You look like shit.”

  I laughed. “You should see the other guy.”

  Lee Ann handed me the M1. I slung it over my back and picked up the SAW. The four of us made our way over to the pools where everyone else was waiting. When Sarge s
aw us he was surprised.

  “Holy shit! What the hell happened to you guys!”

  “I ran into Billy, and Danny took a round to his shoulder,” I replied.

  Doc quickly checked Danny out while Sarge looked at my nose. He grabbed it and moved it back and forth. It was like fire shooting through my head.

  “Dammit, that hurts!” I shouted as I slapped his hand away.

  Sarge giggled. “Yeah, that’s broke for sure.”

  “Thank you for the stunning report, Captain Fucking Obvious!”

  Doc said Danny would be alright for now and turned his attention to Dalton. “What the hell happened to you? There’s blood everywhere. Are you hit? You hurt anywhere?”

  Dalton waved him off. “I’m good Doc. All my blood’s still on the inside. None of this is mine.”

  Doc stepped back and asked, “What the hell happened?”

  I stabbed my thumb at Dalton. “Conan here went all medieval on a bunch of them.”

  Looking at me, Dalton replied, “I wasn’t the only one.”

  “You finish Billy Boy?” Sarge asked.

  “Yeah. He’s not going to be bothering anyone else.”

  “I’d say so!” Dalton shouted. “You hacked his head to pieces. I’ve split logs with fewer swings!”

  Sarge looked around. “Anyone else got any booboos?” Everyone looked themselves over and shook their heads. “Alright. This is almost over. There’s a group holed up over here in the gymnasium. All of the remaining combatants here have to be rooted out; and after it gets light out, every building has to be cleared. The Guard is working on that gym, so we can all take a quick rest and wait for daylight.”

  We all sat down on the chairs by the pool. It was kind of strange to be sitting on a lounge chair beside a pool. But instead of coolers and floats, we had automatic weapons at our side. Of course this pool was a green swamp, but it still looked like a pool. Mike made it to the pool and flopped onto a chair. Looking at Sarge, he said, “You made me hump that damn mortar in here and you didn’t even use it?”

  “We didn’t need it. Better that way. We still have the ammo.”

  Mike shook his head. “Didn’t need it?”

  “Oh dry up! Better we have it and not need it, than need it and not have it!”

  Jess brushed hair from her face and said, “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

  Looking over, I replied, “Speak for yourself.”

  “Aric killed like six people,” Fred said proudly.

  “Shit, you ain’t even limited out yet!” Sarge barked.

  Doc came over and knelt down in front of me. “Let me see that nose.”

  I tilted my head back and said, “You pinch it and yours will look like mine.”

  He laughed. “I ain’t going to pinch it.”

  Yeah, he didn’t pinch it in the proper sense. But he mashed it around and it hurt like hell. He looked in my nose with a small light and asked, “Can you breathe alright?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it just feels like it’s full of snot.”

  “That’s blood, not snot. And don’t try and blow it out. Let the clot stay there for now.”

  In his oh so polite way, Sarge said, “You’re going to look like shit tomorrow.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, well this will get better. What’s your excuse?”

  As the sun began to break the horizon, we were able to see more around us. It was a ghastly scene. There were bodies lying everywhere. The imagery was compounded by the smell of the burning structures, trucks and the unmistakable smell of burning fuel. Mixed in and nearly overpowered by the other odors, but still there, was the iron-like smell of blood and raw meat.

  People just aren’t prepared for what this really looks like. It isn’t like in the movies. I could it see on our people now. Lee Ann was looking around. She was pinching her nose and had a disgusted look on her face. Fred, so proud a moment ago about Aric’s body count, was now bent over getting sick. Aric was patting her back as she wretched.

  Then there was Thad. He was dealing with it by not looking. He stared at the ground at his feet. Mike and Ted were oblivious to it all. They were actually eating a biscuit that Mike pulled from his pack. As though nothing happened and it was just another day.

  I looked in the direction of the group the door gunner and I had taken down. They were scattered over a grassy area on a slight slope. They were over a hundred yards away and I got up and started to walk towards them. Something drew me towards them.

  The closer I got the more clearly I could see them. I was struck by what I was seeing. I stopped in front of the one I’d shot trying to get up. Kneeling down, I brushed the girl’s hair out of her blood-splattered face. She was young, I’d say sixteen or so. She wore only a t-shirt and her underwear. She was a pretty girl and now she was dead. Looking the group over, there were several other women, though thankfully this was the youngest. All were barely dressed, and all of them were barefoot.

  Some of the bodies were chewed to pieces. Having caught the full wrath of the door gunner. The image of that red stream of death coming down amongst them returned to me. I could remember seeing them in the NVGs, but I didn’t recall seeing women. Had I realized that, I have to wonder if I would have had it within me to shoot them. But in the moment, that’s not what I saw.

  I was surveying the scene when Sarge’s voice came over my shoulder. “These the ones that were maneuvering around you?”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “They weren’t maneuvering. They were running for their fucking lives. And I shot them.”

  We stood in silence for a moment. I was staring at the side of the girl’s face. Her eyes were open but it was very obvious there was no life in them. When a person dies, the eyes lose that gleam, that light. There was no light in any of the eyes of these people. Looking at the girl, I wondered what those eyes had seen. What kind of good, what kind of fun times she’d seen in her life. On the other side of that coin was the thought of what sort of horrors they’d seen. And to know that the last thing they saw was the muzzle flash from the machinegun with me behind it was too much.

  Tears started to run down my face. I was supposed to be helping people. Saving them from this very sort of horror. And here, now, there was no way to deny the fact that I was the one to perpetrate the very horror I think I’m preventing.

  Sarge stepped up beside me. After a moment, I heard him take a deep breath. “Morgan. When you saw these people in the dark, running, what did you think?”

  I looked at him. He was looking at the bodies. “What do you mean?”

  He looked at me and there was a softness to him. Sarge was always a little rough around the edges, crusty in a dry dog turd kind of way. A product of a lifetime spent in the service of his country. When he wasn’t pissed off, he was usually fucking with you. But now, I could tell he was being sincere. “In the dark, when you looked down the barrel of that weapon. What did you see?”

  I looked at the broken and bent bodies again. “I didn’t see a group of women and girls fleeing for their lives.”

  Sarge stepped around in front of me and looked directly into my eyes. “I know you didn’t see that, Morgan. If you had, you’d have never pulled the trigger. Hell, I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. But I didn’t ask what you didn’t see. I asked what you did see.”

  I tried to look past him, but he side-stepped, staying right in front of me and staring into my eyes. I thought about the question. I closed my eyes and saw it again, plain as day. “I saw a group of people running.”

  “Where were they running?”

  “They were running for the bush.”

  “Did you think there was a damn good chance they had weapons?”

  Again, I thought about the question. I remembered pushing Lee Ann out of the way and moving the
weapon. I remembered falling behind it and the red tracers speeding away from me. I remembered the demonic tracers from the Minigun. At that moment, I certainly thought they had weapons. I nodded my head and wiped away the increasing tears running from my eyes. “Yes.”

  “And had those armed people gotten past you, do you think your friends, your daughter, could have been killed?”

  Rocking my head to the side, I shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

  Sarge put his hands on my shoulders and I opened my eyes. He was still looking straight into mine, and I was surprised to see what could have been the beginning of tears in his. “Morgan. What you did was what anyone would have done. Do you think all those guys that come back from combat overseas have PTSD from being shot at? That’s only a small part of it friend. Hell, that’s a release. I’ve been shot at in more countries than I can remember. What sticks with you is this shit.”

  He stepped aside and pointed at the bodies. “This is the shit that wakes you up at night. This is the kind of shit that gives you nightmares. I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re thinking about your girls.” He knelt down and gently closed the girl’s eyes. Looking back up at me, he said, “I am too.” He stood up and put his arm around me and pulled me around, away from the carnage. “The moles that have never seen combat call this collateral damage. That’s bullshit from assholes that have never smelled cordite, blood, piss and shit. This will stay with you forever.” He looked at me. “And it should. You shouldn’t forget. It would be a dishonor to the people that lost their lives here. But you need to understand that at the time, at that moment when you pulled the trigger, you did it for a reason bigger than yourself.”

  I’d managed to get control of myself as I thought of what he was saying. He was right after all. I didn’t do it out of maliciousness. I wasn’t blood thirsty or wanting to inflict unnecessary pain or misery. But that really didn’t make it any easier to live with. “I know what you’re saying. It makes sense.” I tried to turn back. I was going to point at those poor souls, but Sarge held me tight and wouldn’t let me. “But it doesn’t change the fact those people are dead because of me.”