Brighter Shades of Light

by Jaclyn Osborn

  The mission today was to remove an old bridge and do basic demolition in a marked area to take out trees and put in craters for ditching. The indirect fire bunkers helped with security and protection, and the bridges helped secure routes.

  My squad and I set out in our Humvees and traveled toward the location. The glaring sun seemed like it could melt your eyes from your sockets if you weren’t careful. I shielded my eyes with sunglasses I had bought from a bazaar for five bucks. They also helped with the dust, so it was a two for one, in my book.

  As we drove by in our convoy, we passed mud huts and crumbling buildings. There were some kids who saw us and started waving, their smiles a refreshing sight compared to the area around them. The civilians didn’t fear us like I thought they would. Some remained leery, but most of them knew we were only here to help them. Without us here, the province could fall under Taliban control.

  I waved back.

  The wind picked up, blowing dust in our faces, and I tried to breathe as best I could. I had forgotten what it was like to go outside and get a lungful of air without coughing and hacking at the gusts of sand.

  At the location, we walked to the old bridge. The grunts with us surveyed the area and kept watch just in case we came under attack. It wasn’t as common as it used to be, but there were still small forces that tried to move in on us, like the day we had been attacked while patrolling. Picking off a few Marines would be the highlight of their day.

  As an officer, I assisted our squad in placing the explosives before we stepped back far enough and detonated them. Blowing shit up never failed to make me a little giddy. It was work, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it.

  Later that evening, we were back on the U.S. base. Anthony and I walked together to go eat dinner, deep in conversation about which of the Marvel superheroes had the best power.

  “Captain America,” I said, as we entered the chow hall. “Hands down.”

  “Nah, I think Black Panther,” he countered.

  “You can’t top Captain America. He’s a symbol.”

  “I’m sure you bet you could top him.”

  “Whoa.” I arched a brow at him. “You had to go there, huh?”

  Anthony smirked before going down the line.

  The food was served cafeteria-style, and everyone sat wherever a seat was available. There were hotdogs, burgers, and chicken sandwiches, but no matter how much it posed as the comforts of home, it never quite hit the mark for me. I grabbed a burger before throwing together a salad and sitting down.

  Sebastian would be proud of me for at least trying to be a little healthy.

  We sat at the nearest table, Anthony in front of me.

  “Second Lieutenant Miller,” the man beside me said, squaring his jaw.

  I looked to see Sergeant Wilson and inwardly groaned. His tightly drawn features and pursed lips said everything his words didn’t. He hated me. Not because I wronged him in any way. He was a seasoned Marine with multiple deployments under his belt and years of service. And I outranked him.

  As a commissioned officer, my rank exceeded all staff non-commissioned officers—or Staff-NCOS—even though I was way younger and inexperienced. It made some of them bitter.

  “Sergeant Wilson,” I responded with a nod.

  He focused on his food and said nothing more.

  Conversation drifted off, making the quiet meal awkward. I was thankful to get the hell out of there and return to my bunk. Sliding onto my bed, I pulled my computer onto my lap and opened the chat with Sebastian. When we weren’t video chatting, we often instant messaged back and forth and replied when we could. It was nearing ten here, so it should only be two in the afternoon there.

  Me: You around?

  Sebastian: Yes. I’m just reading. How are you?

  Me: Tired. Today was long.

  Sebastian: Want to talk about it?

  Me: You know I can’t.

  Sebastian: I know.

  I hated being so secretive with him, but I had to. Even if we were only blowing shit up and patrolling roads, it wasn’t a good idea to talk about it. The less he knew, the better.

  Me: Can I call you?

  Sebastian: Please.

  I hit the call button and waited for him to accept. When he appeared on my screen, my stomach did those damn little flips again. His hair was longer, nearly passing his ears, and his bangs swooped across the top of his glasses.

  “What are you reading?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him.

  “The Iliad.” He held up the book as a strange expression crossed his face. “I…well, I missed you. And since it’s one of your favorites, I thought…”

  “I get it,” I said, as my heart constricted. I didn’t have many reminders of him here, other than the items he had included in the care packages. Even still, when I missed him, I flipped through the photos of us on my laptop or picked up one of the books he sent me from home. “I need to hit the sack. But I wanted to say goodnight to you like this instead of through text.”

  “Goodnight, Cody.” Sebastian stared at me, the sadness in his eyes spreading to the rest of his face and down-turning his mouth a bit.

  It was hard to end the call.

  Only two more months and I can hold him again.

  “Remember to eat dinner,” I said.

  Finally, he smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  After ending the call, I lay against the wall and slowly turned the ring on my right hand before taking it off and reading the inscription. You’re my spark, too. Always. The morning Sebastian gave me the ring seemed like a million years ago. We had come so far since then, experiencing so much.

  My life moved fast in the Corps. There was very little stability, other than what I had with my brothers and sisters who stood beside me, day in and day out. I was always moving, always gearing up for the next mission. Even after I returned home, it was only a matter of time before I had to leave again. Maybe my next deployment would be on a naval ship headed for some other part of the world.

  It was impossible to predict, but that’s why I had to be prepared for anything.

  ***

  Another month passed, but it felt like three. Sometimes, time flew by and days blended together, but then there were the days when I was executing building operations or working on repairs under the blinding sun, and the minutes felt like hours.

  We were on the range today, sharpening our skills with machine guns and rocket launchers at target practice, as well as working on maneuvering drills. I was not only operating with explosives and high-powered weapons, but also teaching others how to use them.

  Gunfire had been a shock to me in the beginning of the NROTC program. The first few times I had shot a real gun, my hands shook and an anchor dropped into the pit of my stomach.

  I was used to it now.

  I carried a gun with me everywhere here. Sometimes it was a sling rifle, but I was also issued a concealed Glock 19m pistol. It was smaller and more compact; an easy to carry handgun to make sure we were well prepared no matter what happened.

  When the sun began to set, we worked on fire team tactics and eliminated targets in lowlight conditions. We utilized our infrared lasers, and I had a lot of fun with it. Like the video games I used to play with Tristen, but way cooler.

  I was flat on my stomach in the dirt, holding my gun at the ready and aiming it over a small hill, and then I shot at the targets. Anthony followed suit, and a woman named Juliet went after him.

  After we finished at the range, we returned to base.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’m going to shower for a week straight,” Juliet said.

  “Good luck with that.” Anthony smirked, his signature move. “Not even a week’s shower can get all the damn sand off you. After almost nine months of this shit, I’m sure it’s morphed into my skin by now.”

  “Even with sand powers, you still wouldn’t be cooler than Captain America,” I said.

  “We at that again, sir?”

  “S
ure are, Lance Corporal.”

  “I’m not sure if you have a Captain America obsession…or a Chris Evans one.”

  “Both. The answer is always both.”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, fellas,” Juliet chimed in, “but Captain Marvel is the most powerful superhero and by far the most awesome.”

  Anthony and I exchanged a look before grinning.

  The lighthearted mood continued through the night. After we showered, we met for a game of cards. I won the first hand, and Juliet dominated the second. The temperature was still cooler than in the summer, but the sun from earlier had taken a lot out of me. By the third game, I called it quits and told them goodnight before going to my bunk.

  My shift was changing tomorrow, and my sleep would be completely fucked up as a result. Might as well sleep while I could.

  Before getting some shut eye, though, I messaged Sebastian.

  Me: I’m turning in for the night. I love you.

  His response was almost immediate.

  Sebastian: I love you, too.

  Our communication as of late was compiled of countless I love yous. Sometimes that’s all I had time to say. And sometimes, that was the only thing to say.

  I couldn’t tell him what was really on my mind. I couldn’t say how there were times when I was afraid I was becoming too sucked into all of this, that I didn’t even flinch anymore when ordered to do something the old me would’ve questioned.

  While you’re training for the Corps, they pump you up by saying the whole, “We’re Marines. Honor, courage, and commitment. We fight and win.” thing. It made me feel like I belonged to something great. And I still felt that way.

  What they didn’t mention, though, was the dangerous mindset you could fall into. Kind of like how something could appear great from the outside, but once you sunk into it, you found all the dark shit they didn’t want you knowing about. You discovered the glamour was only a mirage.

  It was a lot to process.

  But I couldn’t say any of it to Sebastian. I didn’t want him to worry. I also didn’t want to admit it aloud. With more time, I was sure the feeling would pass. Or maybe I would become used to it.

  Sirens sounded, pulling me from a dead sleep.

  I jumped out of bed and was ready in a minute flat before rushing out of the room. Explosions echoed from outside, as did machine guns coming from the western wall. Camp Shorabak was under attack again, but this time sounded much worse. When the next explosion hit, it rattled the building. I unslung my rifle and ran toward the commotion, my breath seizing in my chest.

  Smoke wafted in the air, circling around me. And the smell…fuck, the smell was awful.

  “Kill the fucking bastards,” another lieutenant said. “Kill them all.”

  Outside, I joined other Marines as we helped the Afghan forces defend their camp. The Afghan soldiers in the guard tower fired on the attackers, who were moving through the base. How many, I didn’t know. Mortars fired, and men ducked for cover before firing their weapons into the darkness.

  My heart pounded harder, but I remained calm. I was trained for this.

  Trained to kill, just as the other lieutenant had said.

  The attack drew on, seeming as though it lasted for hours, when it was probably only a handful of minutes. Maybe a little longer. I fired my rifle, not hesitating whatsoever before pulling the trigger. Another explosion. That made three. Once the smoke finally cleared and the pops from guns stopped, the base was patrolled as we cleared the area and made sure there were no more enemies hiding in wait.

  Taliban fighters had snuck onto the base and attacked from the west. The number of casualties was unknown, but I saw at least three Afghan soldiers dead so far. That number climbed higher as we entered the dining hall and saw some of them had been stabbed to death, while others had been in the range of a suicide bomber.

  Nine Taliban insurgents were dead that I could see, but I knew there had to be more than that. Three of them had been suicide bombers.

  It was complete chaos for the next several hours. The body count was up to twenty or so. No U.S. casualties, although a few men had minor wounds. News of the attack spread, and by noon Sebastian’s time, reports were spreading online coming in from other news sources.

  I was helping deal with the aftermath of it all, and so I wasn’t around my laptop to see the ten missed calls from Sebastian or to respond to his several panicked messages. When I finally had time to talk, I called him. The internet had been wonky lately, and I didn’t trust a video to load, so I opted for the audio only call.

  “Cody?” Sebastian answered. I had never heard him sound so distraught.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, finding more comfort than I thought I would in hearing his voice.

  “It’s all over the news that there was an attack on the US-Afghan base in Helmand.” His voice cracked. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  I couldn’t tell him about all the shit in my head. I had taken down one or two of the rebels. And I felt nothing. They were the enemy, and I would take them all down if I had to.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”

  It had to be.

  Chapter 29

  Sebastian

  “Baby, I’m coming home.”

  They were the sweetest words I had heard in almost a year. My Marine was finally coming home. I couldn’t wait to pull him into my arms and kiss him. Nine months of anxiety over whether he’d be okay was nearly at an end. I only had to wait a few more days.

  However, the days following his announcement passed slowly, the hours dragging on. Sleeping was difficult. Doing anything other than waiting by the computer for an update was even more so.

  I cleaned the whole house and stocked the kitchen with groceries to make all of Cody’s favorite meals. The exact time of his arrival wasn’t known yet. His unit was placed on a waiting list and assigned a flight window, so I wouldn’t know for certain for another three days or so. When I finally found out, I took off work for the day and scheduled an appointment to cut my hair. It had become a little ungodly over the months, and I wanted to look nice after not seeing Cody for so long.

  On the morning of his homecoming, I couldn’t control my nerves. I fussed with the buttons on my shirt and spent forever fixing my freshly-cut hair. I cleaned my glasses and then cleaned them again.

  Cody was flying into an undisclosed air base, and then he would board a bus with the other Marines in his unit. He texted me once he landed.

  Cody: Hey, Dr. Vale ;) heading to base now.

  I was already at the field on the base when I received his text. Waiting. The March morning was a bit chilly, so I stayed in my car. Other families around me did the same, though some of them stood on the lawn and held up signs for their military loved ones at the reunion site. Excitement was on their faces. Joy.

  One woman was already tearing up, watching the road with a trembling chin.

  I sucked in a breath. My nerves were shot, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

  Cody: We have to check in our equipment first and then we’ll be there.

  My anxiety grew. Until I actually saw Cody right in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to relax. Anything could happen between now and then. It wouldn’t be real until he was in my arms.

  I turned off the car and went to stand with the other family members on the grass. It was the same spot where I had said goodbye to Cody all those months ago. Now, it would be the place where we came back together.

  “Momma, is that them?” a little boy yelled, pointing toward an approaching bus.

  My heart stopped. I focused on the bus, not even realizing until now that I was bouncing a little in place, as if ridding my body of the budding nervousness.

  Cheers erupted around me as the bus stopped in front of us. Signs waved in the air, welcoming the unit home. A banner hung from the building behind me, saying the same. I stared at the bus door as it hissed and opened.

  As the first Marine stepped off, he was met wit
h excited yelps and hollers. More uniformed men and women stepped off the bus next, their families rushing toward them with happy tears in their eyes. A young woman pounced on an equally young Marine, crying into his shoulder before taking his face and kissing him.

  A camera flashed as a woman who I assumed to be a Family Readiness Officer snapped photos of the reunions. She was the one who organized the homecoming.

  My feet carried me closer to the Marines still filing off the bus, and I held my breath as I searched the faces, looking for one in particular.

  Where are you, baby?

  More Marines stepped off, none of them my Cody. I began to panic a little.

  But then I saw him.

  Cody looked around, not having seen me yet. I walked faster before breaking out into a run. People embraced around me, but I made my way through the wave of them, not seeing anyone but Cody. Every part of me came alive, as if my very soul was reaching out to him, desperate to be reunited with its other half.

  When our gazes locked, his face lit up like the sun, and he ran toward me. His smile was wide and goofy…and so him. There was no greater feeling than when I flung my arms around his neck. I heard a camera click and looked to see the FRO had snapped a photo of us. She smiled before moving on to another group.

  I kissed Cody, then. His mouth trembled against mine, and he put an arm around my waist.

  As his familiar scent hit me, I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes. He felt amazing against me. He might’ve been the one to leave months ago, but as we kissed and hugged, I felt like I was the one coming back home.

  “Welcome home, Second Lieutenant,” I said, my mouth ghosting over his.

  Cody stroked my jaw, and then his mouth was on mine again. We softly kissed, our lips touching over and over, and then there was a hand on my shoulder. Cody stopped kissing me and grinned.

  Three Marines stood behind me, all smiling: Kyle, Tyler, and Patrick, the three men I sent care packages to during the deployment.