Fighting Absolution

by Kate McCarthy

  I remember the morning I first saw her at the mess hall. Jake was talking with her as if he’d known her a lifetime, his eyes on hers like she was the only person in the room. Then he introduced us from across the table.

  “Kyle Brooks, this is Jamie. Jamie Murphy.”

  The name sent my heart knocking around in my chest. I jerked so hard my knees banged into the table and spilled coffee all over my tray. I mopped at it with a napkin while I tried hard not to stare. Was it really her? Or just someone with the same name and colouring?

  Every day I wondered what had become of my best friend, hoping she was happy. That she was doing something important with her life. Something safe. I imagined what she looked like all the time. Glimpses through the fence showed brown eyes and hair that was long and wild. Would it be short now, cut in a business-like style that suited her profession, or did she keep it long? Were her hands still as painfully delicate as they were when she held mine beneath the fence?

  The female soldier that sat across the table from me was achingly beautiful. The kind of beauty that didn’t belong in a place where everything was stark and ugly and brutal. Her hair was thick and braided in a long rope that she somehow twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were large in her face, the chocolate brown richer than I remembered, coloured with flecks of amber.

  Then her hand grasped the necklace, and I knew. It was really her, and anger bubbled up inside. I was furious. Livid. Jamie inside a warzone? No. Hell no. This was no place for her, and not because she was a woman on the front line. I wasn’t a sexist asshole. I was just someone who knew she’d already been through too much and didn’t want to see her go through anymore.

  Then she stood with her barely touched breakfast tray, her shoulders back and chin high, and I realised just how petite she was, despite the lean muscle and feisty attitude. Her face and body had been battered just like the first time we met, yet she somehow appeared five times taller than she was, just from the strength she carried around inside herself.

  “I’m not the same Jamie you used to know,” she hisses at me, pulling me from the memory. “And I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to even look at you.”

  She goes to slam the door closed. I wedge my boot in the way, stopping her. “Too bad.”

  Her brows fly up to her hairline as the door bounces off my foot. “You can’t come in here.”

  “So let’s go for a walk.”

  “I’d rather chew off my own feet,” she bites out.

  There’s the little warrior I know. I would laugh if we both weren’t hurting so much. “This is just like old times.”

  “There are no old times.” She tries closing the door again, pushing against the boot that remains lodged in her way. “You were never a real friend anyway.”

  The barb hurts, even though I know she’s just lashing out. “Yeah? Well you were mine. The best.”

  Jamie laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “Let me clue you in, Brooks. Real friends don’t walk out on each other. So what we had…” she shakes her head “…not real.”

  “It was real for me.” I remove the boot and take a step back, risking the door being slammed in my face. “I wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for you,” I tell her, the admission painful but true.

  Jamie goes to close it and looks at me, hesitating. The internal struggle is written all over her face. I can tell she wants to ask and yet doesn’t want to—all at the same time. “How could it be real if you never told me about your mother?”

  The familiar pang of loss echoes through my body. I rub at the tension in the back of my neck. “Cancer doesn’t just affect the person with the disease. It affects everyone around them too. It’s this big, black cloud that’s waiting for you when you wake up, and it’s there with you when you go to sleep. There’s no escaping it. But with you I could forget she was dying. I could pretend there was nothing wrong. I couldn’t do that with anyone else. You gave me that. I know that makes me a coward, and I’m sorry.” I swallow, my chest expanding as I take a deep breath. “Just … some days I needed that, you know? It got me through when nothing else did.”

  “Bear.” Her voice is a cracked whisper. Then she presses her lips together, remembering she’s supposed to be mad at me. “I get that. I do. But she died and you still left.”

  Hurt flickers visibly in her eyes. I put it there, and years later it’s still there. A wound that never healed. “I’m sorry. I’ve apologised to you a thousand times in my head. It was selfish to leave with just a note, but I don’t know if I could’ve left otherwise, and I needed to go. The memories of who she was hit me everywhere I went. At school before she got sick, where she’d pick me up after finishing work. At rugby, where she’d cheer me on from the sidelines so loud I could hear her clear across the field. But then the cancer came, and I saw her every time I passed by the local medical centre. I saw her catching her breath whenever we went shopping, leaning against the trolley as she waited for the dizziness to pass. I saw her at the beach, sitting with me on a towel as she watched the waves crash against the shore one last time before she died.” My voice grows hoarse. “She was everywhere I turned. So I ran.”

  “But it didn’t work, did it?” Jamie says, a sad knowledge in her eyes because she gets it. Of course she gets it.

  “No.” My throat aches and my breathing becomes heavy, as if someone is sitting on my chest. The admission is painful as fuck. “It didn’t work. You can’t outrun memories. Not when they’re inside you.”

  She reaches for me and stops herself. “You should go.”

  I nod slowly. “You’re right. I should. We ship out tomorrow. I thought you’d want to know so you could say goodbye. To Jake.”

  “I don’t—” she starts and stops. “I’m not sure I can.”

  “You can, Jamie. You’ll regret it otherwise.”

  Her voice turns bitter. “I’m sure you know all about that.”

  “I do know. You need to say goodbye. For you.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need, Brooks.”

  I shake my head. “Always fighting, huh?”

  At least with me. It was hard not to envy the easy way she and Jake got along, as if they were caught inside each other’s orbit. I didn’t make it easy for Jamie here, and I’m sorry for that, but it was easier to keep her at arm’s length rather than confess who I really was and risk losing her a second time. Instead, I kept sniping at her, enjoying the way she returned each volley like a champion. Jamie’s sharp mind and wicked sense of humour came alive when provoked.

  She shrugs, one hand still on the door knob. “What can I say? You bring out the fight in me.”

  “I like the fight in you. It means you haven’t given up.”

  “Don’t, Brooks.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Talk to me as if we’re friends. We used to be a long time ago, but we’re not anymore.”

  “Dammit, Jamie.” I swipe a hand down my face, scratching at my newly formed beard while I ignore the thundering ache in my side. The painkiller is wearing off. “Let me fix this.”

  “There’s nothing to fix.”

  “I can’t leave knowing you’re pissed at me.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  The door slams in my face.

  18

  JAMIE

  I’m conscious of every breath as I fumble with the shirt buttons on my freshly laundered uniform. When I’m done, I tuck it inside my pants and adjust my belt. My boots are by the door of my room. I collect them, along with a thick pair of socks from my drawer.

  Seating myself on the edge of the bed, I slide the socks on my feet, followed by the boots. I pretend not to notice the way my fingers tremble as I tie the laces. It takes me a second to get them right.

  Standing, I walk to the mirror. My reflection stares back, and it’s like looking at a whole other person. Sometimes it’s easier to cope that way. If you pretend you’re standing on the outside of your life, looking in; it’s
like watching everything happen to someone else. And if you do it often enough, it becomes second nature.

  I weave thick sections of my hair into a braid. After tying an elastic around the ends, I wind it into a knot at the nape of my neck. I’m just finishing when a knock comes at my door.

  My lungs expand as I take a deep breath. Each step feels painfully slow as I walk to answer it. The door swings open and Wood stands on the other side, his uniform fresh and face grim. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  He aims for a sympathetic smile, but it falls short of the mark. He just looks constipated. “Then let’s go.”

  I step outside. The morning sun hits my face and flutters my hair, pulling loose strands from my braid and flicking them across my brow. I brush them away as we walk towards the truck, covering my eyes from the pale glare with a dark pair of sunglasses.

  The trip is quick. Too quick. What feels like mere seconds later, we’re arriving at the airfield. The C-130 Hercules is on the tarmac, the big charcoal beast open from the back end and being loaded with bags. Other soldiers arrive alongside us, the rest of them already out by the plane. Me and Wood step out of the truck and make our way towards them.

  He swings a bony arm over my shoulders and gives me a jostle. “You okay?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “We’ll be home soon,” he reassures me, squeezing the tense muscle around my neck before letting go. “Then we can hit the beach every day and the bars every night.”

  That was my plan with Jake. How can I laze around and drink beers while he’s lying somewhere in the ground, cold and alone in the dark? I can’t do it without him. My eyes sting and my voice turns thick. “Can’t wait.”

  My lack of enthusiasm is clear. “It’ll be good for you, Murphy. A bit of relaxation and recuperation will be good for both of us.”

  His comment pokes at my selfish little bubble, reminding me I’m not alone in my grief. “What about you, Wood? You okay?”

  He looks at me before his gaze bounces off towards the distance, where the sun meets the mountains as it climbs into the sky. “Yeah,” he says, but there’s something off in his tone, something that niggles at me. I push it aside for later because my focus has narrowed on a truck that’s making its way along the tarmac in our direction. It pulls around, performing a measured U-turn before easing to a stop about twenty yards away.

  My stomach knots in a sick lump as the soldiers milling around me form a guard of honour at the ass-end of the plane. Pulling the sunglasses from my face, I tuck them in my pocket and take my place in the line, Wood to my right.

  My peripheral vision shows a soldier stepping out from the back of the truck. Then another, and another, and I try not to look. Instead, I stare over the shoulder of the soldier standing opposite me, my focus on the distance as I inhale deeply. I hold it in my lungs for a moment before letting go. The air pushes past my lips in a shaky puff.

  God, why is it so hard to breathe?

  The soldiers from the truck start for the plane, and I can’t stop myself. I look, and my knees almost give out beneath me. Kyle and Ryan lead the small procession, the rest of Jake’s team behind them as they carry the casket towards us. It’s draped with the Australian flag—the red, white, and blue a bright beacon of colour in a sea of desert camouflaged uniforms and a terrain of thick, drab dust.

  Their steps are slow and heavy. As they get closer, I raise my arm in a salute, as does Wood and the surrounding Australian soldiers in the guard. My eyes sting and I mash my lips together as I fight back a sob, but I keep my spine straight, my shoulders true, and my hand pressed hard to my forehead, honouring the fallen soldier as they take him home for the last time.

  “Did someone just say the magic word?” Jake asked as he took a seat beside me.

  “Home?”

  Jake grinned. “No place like it.”

  Kyle’s eyes find mine as they pass me by, and the battle inside them breaks me. Tears blur my vision, rolling their way down my cheeks, yet I see him. I see the boy I used to know. The best friend that stopped me from giving up. The one who ran when life got too hard because he didn’t know how to lean on me the way I leaned on him. The one I thought about every night for years, wondering what had become of him. Always wondering.

  The small procession keeps moving, and we remain saluting, silent and still, as they walk up the ramp and onto the plane.

  I never got to say goodbye. I wasn’t ready. But I’ve learnt that death doesn’t wait for you to catch up. People like Jake sacrifice their lives for something they believe in with their whole hearts, and yet the world keeps turning, the sun continues to rise in the east and set in the west, and life goes on, regardless of those who get left behind.

  I lower my arm as the soldiers disperse, and Wood slings an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close until I’m engulfed in his warmth. He presses a hard kiss to my forehead. I hold on, just for a moment, my fingers curling into the front of his shirt.

  “I’ve forgotten why we’re here, Wood.” The war was something I believed in. I trained like a caped crusader on a quest to save the world because I thought I could make a difference, yet I feel like everything I’m trying to accomplish here is for nothing. All I’ve found in this savage land is pain and loss and a brutal disregard for human life. “What are we even fighting for anymore?”

  He shakes his head and relaxes his hold, freeing me from his embrace. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Kyle steps back out of the plane, sunglasses now covering his eyes and shirtsleeves rolled up, revealing his large forearms and inked skin. He grabs one of the bags that rest by the ramp, and I know I need to go to him. He reached out yesterday to make amends, not wanting to leave me the way he did before. Yet here I am, making him do it all over again, forcing his hand. I need to let it go. Kyle has just lost one of the best friends he has. My anger has no place here.

  “Give me a minute,” I tell Wood and make my way over.

  Kyle

  I wasn’t sure Jamie planned on ever talking to me again. Leaving the way I did was an asshole move. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her cross the street if she saw me coming the other way. Maybe not even piss on me if I were on fire. Hell, she’d probably add accelerant and watch me burn. So I do a double-take when she starts towards the tarmac in my direction. I’m not sure what to expect. Jamie can be unpredictable. I’d wave a white flag if I could. Instead, I settle for setting down the bag in my hand and flicking my sunglasses to the top of my head, giving her my attention.

  Jamie reaches me and steps close, leaving barely any space between us. Her hands tremble as she reaches up and palms my bearded cheeks. I stare down at her, surprised and waiting for her to speak first. She’s struggling. I can feel it. “I’m sorry,” she says when she finds her voice.

  My tone is gruff, the apology knocking the air from my lungs. “For what?”

  Regret darkens her eyes. “For yesterday.”

  “You don’t need to apologise for that.”

  “I do.” She lets me go and moves back a step. “I’ve been thinking only about myself. When you left I was so damn angry. All I thought about was how could you do this to me? Hadn’t I been through enough? How was I supposed to tackle this life without you there by my side? I lost you just when I was starting to find my feet again, but I didn’t even think about the fact that you lost me too, and you lost your mother, and I’m sorry for that, Kyle. I’m so sorry. I have no right to be angry.”

  Grief climbs my throat. I swallow it down. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who fucked everything up. Leaving was a mistake.”

  A colossal one. I knew it the moment I left. But I couldn’t turn back. I had nothing. No belongings. No money in my pocket. No one I cared about except for Jamie, the girl from the other side of the fence. I would have stayed if she asked me to, which was all the more reason for me to leave. Writing her the note was a coward’s move, but I didn’t know how else to tell her. She probably tore it
into tiny bits of confetti and left it for the birds.

  I returned home after my first army placement, the very first chance I got. I confronted the memories and went to her house. I even knocked on the door.

  “Jamie’s not here,” her foster mother said when I asked if she was around. Sue, I thought her name was, but I couldn’t remember.

  “Is she out?” I questioned, glancing over my shoulder as if expecting her to return at that very moment, walking up the path behind me.

  “She’s not out. She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” The thought sent my stomach into freefall. “Gone where?”

  “She left for the army.” Sue rolled her eyes heavenward. “Crazy girl, that one. Looking for a fight wherever she could find it. Maybe that place will give her some of the discipline she lacks.”

  “The army?” I kept repeating her words back at her like an idiot.

  Why would Jamie join the army? Did she do it looking for me? I rejected the idea immediately. The girl was stubborn, her pride a rigid iron bar. The last thing she would do was chase down someone who left her, unless she wanted to punch me in face so bad it was worth enlisting for.

  “Yeah, the army,” Sue repeated. “You just missed her actually.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “Three days ago.”

  Three goddamn days? I walked away feeling sick and ended up wasting my leave getting sunburned at the beach during the days, and drinking with random army mates during the nights, before crashing on the couch of an old friend from high school.

  I returned to base with a pounding headache and food poisoning from some questionable bar food we ate the night before.

  What the hell was I doing with my life? I joined the army to find my purpose, and yet I felt more adrift than a sailor lost at sea. I needed something more. Something that pushed me beyond my limits. Something to give my life meaning. So I made the decision to join the SAS, the toughest regiment in the entire army. Maybe it would be the answer for me.