I whirled around quickly towards the sound of the metallic bang, my hand automatically reaching for my sidearm. Before I unholstered it, I heard children laughing, running away from the car door they had slammed closed, following their parents into the path through the woods. Just a family here for the holiday celebrations, I told myself, nothing to worry about. Five: red car, pine trees, Indian paintbrushes, setting sun, squirrel-
“Jacobs, are you feeling alright?” Carson’s words break into my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.
“Yeah man,” I answered, wiping the sweat off my brow. “Just a rough night.” I reached into my pocket for a peppermint and focused on the bittersweet taste.
I saw the understanding in his eyes; he still had the dreams too. “I hear you. Gonna be a busy one tonight though. You up for it?”
“Yeah man, same shit as always, just a little more of it today, right?”
Carson laughed, handed me the reporting of the day so far while giving a rundown of issues that may continue to be a problem. A few teens drinking on the trails who had been chased off but would probably return, some overly rambunctious campers, families trying to swim in unapproved areas. “Sorry you had to come in tonight; I know you don’t like to work the night shift.” I shrugged off his apology. The night shift was difficult for me, and I probably would have been pissed to be called in on a holiday weekend, but Evans was in the hospital so there hadn’t been any other options. “Even though all the camping spots are full, with the celebrations tonight we expect most people will stay near the lake. It’s just going to be you and Enderson tonight. He’s already down by the lake overseeing things there, which leaves the campsites for you. You know the drill.”
“Yes, sir. No worries, enjoy your time with your family and we’ll keep everything squared away here.”
With a slight wave, Carson headed towards the employee parking lot while I climbed into the park jeep and headed toward the campsites to begin my patrol. The roads were full of people running between campsites, making it slow going, but I didn’t mind. A few stops along the way to remind kids to look before running across the road, helping a lost looking woman put together a tent, and giving numerous people directions on which hiking trails were the most direct path to the lake kept me busy. As full darkness came on, most of the campsites were abandoned, their occupants heading to the show that would be starting soon. As I drove past the final campsite and prepared to turn around, the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. My heart pounded in my chest and the cold sweat began building on my brow. I scanned the area and saw a young couple roasting marshmallows over a small fire, enjoying each other’s company too much to be concerned with the festivities at the lake. Five: blue tent, blonde woman, full moon, owl, park signs. Four: steering wheel, car seat, dashboard-
“Hey, dude! Everything alright?” My head whipped around to the sound, and I saw the man from the couple approaching the vehicle, his hand in front of his eyes to block the headlights that were shining directly on him and his date.
“Sorry, man!” I called out the window. “Just got distracted for a minute. Ya’ll enjoy your evening now.” Slightly embarrassed, I headed back down the row of campsites and parked near the main hiking trail. I gathered up what I needed to begin my foot patrol of the trails, knowing that teens often liked these dark spots to hang out drinking and smoking pot. After only a few minutes I heard the telltale signs of punk rock and giggling in the distance and headed off trail to find the group. Before they were in my sight, a gunshot rung out from behind me, and a searing pain tore through my arm. Controlled solely by instinct and muscle memory, I dove for cover, and pressed my back against a large tree. I unholstered my weapon, and peered around, trying to locate the source of the shots. They were coming from my south, but the light from the full moon didn’t penetrate the densely wooded forest, leaving me in near pitch black and unable to see the shooters. I fired a few rounds in the general direction I thought the blasts were coming from, hoping to cause the enemy to take cover long enough for me to change position. Immediately after discharging my weapon, I dropped to the ground and begin making my way through the roughage. I couldn’t see them, so they shouldn’t be able to see me either, especially this close to the ground.
Each movement forward causes blasts of excruciating pain to shoot up my arm, but I kept moving, trying to find the source of the gunfire. There was no time to assess the damage right now, though the amount of blood running down my arm suggested it was more serious than a graze. In fact, as I used my arms to pull myself forward on the ground, I thought I could feel the bullet rubbing painfully against the bones in my shoulder with every movement. As the blasts sounded again, the surging adrenaline blocked out some of the pain, and I was able to move faster. It seemed as though the shots were coming from above me, which didn’t make any sense, so I kept moving in the direction of the first shot. The blasts seemed to come at fairly regular intervals, so probably just one shooter, possibly two. If I could just find them, I could take them out. As I crawled forward, I encountered what I initially thought was a downed tree, but as I began carefully climbing over it, I saw the face. Richards. His eyes open wide, as though he were shocked that this had happened to him. Dried blood had made its way from the bullet wound in his forehead to his open mouth, and I struggled to contain the contents of my stomach. He was just a kid! Not even old enough to drink, definitely not old enough to really understand serving his country could end this way. I gently closed his eyes, reached into his breast pocket to remove the paper I knew would be there, a letter to his mother or a special girl back home, and placed the note in my own pocket.
My anger surpassed the pain and fear, and I moved forward with renewed energy, vowing to find the bastards who took his life. A snap from my left caught my attention, and I moved behind a tree, raising myself and readying my weapon. As the enemy came into view, his weapon drawn but down at his side, I stepped from behind the tree, my weapon aimed directly at his heart.
“You bastard! You’re going to pay for that. He was a child!”
The enemy approached, still not raising his gun. His unarmed hand reached towards me, his expression concerned. He was going to beg me for his life. I wanted to hear this. I wanted him to plead, to tell me all the things he had to live for before I took them away, as he had done to Richards.
“You got something to say mother fucker?”
“Jacobs, you need to listen to me.” His use of my name had caught me off guard for a moment, but I quickly remembered the patches displayed on my uniform. Shots still filled the air; there must have been more shooters than I realized. “Jacobs, I need you to put down the gun, OK?”
“Like hell I will.” Sadness filled the enemy’s eyes, as he realized there would be no escape for him. Another shot filled the air, and as I scanned the area around us, I saw someone approaching behind the enemy. I dispatched the first one quickly, not even allowing time for his final plea to escape his mouth and trained my weapon on the advancing figure.
Before his face became clear in the darkness, I heard his voice. “Sergeant Jacobs, drop that weapon immediately.”
Relief flooded through my body. “LT, they shot Richards, he’s back there.” I gestured behind me. “Are there any more out here?” More shots rang out, and I twirled around, trying to find the source. They seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once.
Ignoring the shots, Lieutenant Carson continued to approach me. “Soldier, I ordered you to drop your sidearm.” I didn’t want to, believing we were still in danger, but I couldn’t disobey a direct order, so I complied.
As the gun hit the ground, Carson walked towards me slowly until he was near enough to kick the weapon away. “LT, I don’t understand.”
Carson faced me directly. “Jacobs, give me five.”
At first, I was confused. Five what? Push-ups? But I suppose part of me knew what he wanted, because my eyes began scanning the area. “Five. Lieutenant Carson, trees, pinecone, rocks, trail.” As I focused on the trees, I was bewildered. They seemed different than they had just a moment ago. Greener, less dense.
“Good, now give me four.”
I concentrated on my body and everything I felt in that moment. “Four. Soft breeze, hard earth, sweat, heart beating.” The pain in my arm was gone. I looked down at the wound which had burned so intensely and saw not a gaping hole in camouflage and flesh, but simply a dirty brown shirt, scars from a long-healed wound just visible beyond the short sleeve.
“Now three.”
As I listened intently, the panic started to build again. “Shots, don’t you hear the shots?”
“Ignore the shots, Jacobs. Focus on something else. Give me three, soldier, right now!”
“Three. Crickets, frog, owl.” Without any further urging, I had continued, finally beginning to realize what was happening. “Two, smoke, pine. One,” I reached into my pocket and removed a candy, placing it into my mouth, “peppermint.” Fully immersed in the present, I lifted my gaze to Carson. “Shit, man, did I go out for a moment? I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened since I started the meds. I’m sorry you had to come back out here tonight.”
“Never mind that Jacobs, let’s just get you back to base.” As he walks towards me, I see the body behind him. Enderson was laying on the ground, fresh blood pooling around him.
“Carson, did I…” my voice broke, and shame had washed over me as I realized that I must have. My heart started racing as the sweat began to build on my brow.
“Jacobs, stay with me. We have to get out of here, now.” Carson grabbed my arm and pulled me back the way I had come from. Memories flooded my head, but they were all mixed up. I couldn’t recall what happened here, what happened there. I let him pull me back towards the trail. After only a few yards I heard Carson mumble “Holy shit,” and I followed his gaze. On the ground before us, a teenage boy was sprawled, blood making a trail from his forehead to his mouth. I shook my head, backing away from the boy and Carson, my heart beating so loud I could feel the pounding in my ears.
“The next thing I remember is waking up here.” I look across the table to the lawyer listening intently to my story. I raise my hands in a placating gesture, as much as the cuffs will allow. “So, can you help me?”