I spent the next few days learning from Tom how everything worked and recording video for future reference. We all ate meals together and cleaned up. Jillian and Tom made the most of what time they had together, which is exactly what I would have done in their position. After dinner one night, Tom asked me to go for a walk with him. Jillian looked at me and returned to wiping the counter.
“What are you planning on doing with Brigadier… I mean Chris?” Tom asked me.
“Oh yea, I forgot about him. Hmm. Fuck him, let him rot like the countless others.” I said thinking of my family buried in my backyard.
“I would like to die as a soldier.” Tom said pulling out his side arm and handing it to me.
“You want to be buried with your gun?” I asked.
“No, I want you to do the honor of…” I interrupted Tom immediately.
“Wait a minute!” I said looking him straight in the eyes. “There is nothing honorable about that! I absolutely refuse this request. Your battle, as a warrior, is with death itself. Not a person, not a virus, not even a bullet. A true warrior looks death in the eyes and faces it head on. Death will eventually win, but as a warrior, death needs to know who their dealing with.” I said.
“You sound exactly like my dad.” Tom said blinking with his head tilted. Tom’s eyes welled up and he hugged me.
“Death seems to be pretty simple, easy and straight forward; it’s living that is the ultimate battle.” I said.
“I took this assignment under completely different project objectives; I was manipulated from the start. By the time everything became clear, it was too late.” Tom said looking down to the ground.
“You and countless others I suspect.” I said. Nothing was said for about a full minute. Tom handed me a piece of paper.
“I’m not going to read this until you tell me what it is.” I said.
“It’s a location of where I want to be buried, alongside my fallen Brothers and Sisters.” Tom said standing to attention.
“Arlington?” I questioned. “You want to be buried along with all the others that died protecting America from a government that probably killed them?” I asked. “I will honor this request, however misplaced.” I said in a disapproving tone.
“War and casualties are a direct result of failed politics. Tribal conflict and war, does and probably always will exist, everywhere, at every timeline. Do you have any siblings?” I asked Tom.
“Three sisters and one brother, why?” Tom asked.
“If you had a choice of protecting your mom, dad and four siblings from an immediate threat or protecting a man or woman you hardly know; who would live and who would die? As a man, it is your responsibility to protect YOUR family.” I said. Tom started to cry, but held it back. Jillian came running to his side. I heard Tom whisper to Jillian: “That’s my dad. I can see his face.” As he exploded in emotion and crying uncontrollably; he dropped to his knees.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“63215 Palm Brook Court Thousand Oaks, California! Write it down! Write it down!” Tom said regaining his composure. “That’s where my family…!” Tom said holding his hands over his face. I recorded Tom’s information. Tom pulled his hands from his face showing me the blood in his hands as his nose dripped red. Tom looked at it, then at me. “Oh Shit!” Tom said. Jillian covered her mouth and started to sob.
“This is how it starts.” Tom said with a shaking voice as he looked at me then at Jillian.
“Hold steady soldier.” I said as I looked into his eyes. His gaze shifted quickly to just over my left shoulder and his eyes opened wide. “Oh my.” He said quietly as he closed his eyes.
“Open your eyes, Tom. Face your enemy!” I said as I slowly glanced to my left and saw nothing, but could detect the smell of death I have been so accustomed to, only now I could actually taste it, metallic and sour. Tom struggled to open his eyes, chin quivering uncontrollably as pink tears poured from his eyes and blood ran from his nose and ears.
“FACE YOUR ENEMY!” I said loudly as Jillian burst into a crying fit, covering her eyes. Tom’s breathing slowed and he opened his eyes and his mouth clinched so tight I think I heard a tooth crack. His eyes still looking just off my left shoulder, only now turning into a piercing evil stare. Tom’s breathing increased slightly, then relaxed, as his eyes met mine for the final time.
“I have a body bag stored in the R/V, I’ll get Tom’s uniform and drag Brigadier dumb ass out.” I said to Jillian who was a mess of emotion.
I turned on the monitor for the bunker to verify Chris’ fate. He sat slumped in a chair, a dropped gun at his side and his brains decorated the wall behind him. Not taking any chances he rigged up a trap or something I rewound the recording. Apparently, he did not want to face the horror he was part and parcel too and shot himself right after he wrote on a piece of paper. I unlocked the door and entered. I looked at the piece of paper, it was two paragraphs. Just text no numbers. It started with and apology and I stopped reading it. I dragged him outside and put him and his note in the body bag Jillian placed outside the door. I found Tom’s uniform and gave it to Jillian.
“I just can’t do that. I just can’t.” Jillian said exhausted.
“I’m pretty sure he would not want to be buried in my Metallica t-shirt.” I said. Together we dressed Tom and put him in the body bag.
“Let’s go find him a military coffin.” I said to Jillian who shook her head in agreement not able to speak. I found the keys to the Suburban and put Chris’ body in the back. Jillian and the dogs got in. The dogs comforted Jillian, as she asked me; “Where are you taking him?”
“The first dumpster I find.” I said as I put it in gear and drove away.
We returned with a top-of-the-line military coffin. We could barely lift it to put it in the Suburban empty. We managed to put Tom in it and removed the body bag because it just did not look right. As I was ready to close the lid, Jillian asked for a few minutes. The dogs and I walked out of the garage and I could hear her talking quietly between crying. I heard the lid close, and I re-entered the garage.
“My turn.” I said opening the lid. “Tom, I don’t know whether to apologize or thank you, we will put you where you belong with the hopes it will bring you peace.” I closed the lid and latched it for the final time.
Jillian said it might be an eight to nine-day round trip to California and back, mid- August if we don’t run into any big delays, if we leave in the next day or two.
“You don’t want to spend Winter here? Jillian asked.
“Not really, but it’s difficult walking away from all that food.” I said.
“Let’s pack up as much as we can, and come back in the Spring.” Jillian proposed.
“That’s what I was thinking, we need to button up this place and hope something does not compromise the freezers. There is the main power source which is solar and two backup generators, we can top those off and double check everything before we leave. We can add a bigger freezer and a small trailer to the R/V and fill it up.” I said. Jillian did not respond.