Page 4 of Pretend
The way the Marine fell...I know what sound this is, and it’s from another sniper.
“Everyone, take cover!” Zeke shouts. The marine holds onto his nearly severed leg, blood pouring out of his wound, and it leaves a bright red trail as he gets dragged to safety by Rooker.
I get to work, holding my damn breath, investigating every possible location.
“Where is this guy? He has to be far. It sounded far away.” Kane asks from behind me, panic laced in his tone.
“I’ll find him...I always find them.” I deadpan. I’m focused, and the whole world gets tuned out. I can’t hear the rain anymore. I can’t hear the screams of an injured marine or the shouts of leadership.
I can’t hear anything but my even-paced breathing.
As promised, I find him.
I see the enemy sniper. Yards away on another rooftop, and I grit my teeth. He’s hiding underneath a built-in tent that blends in with the night and building. He has his sniper pointed at the marines below, smirking confidently, with his hand on the trigger about to take another one of the marines out, or he’s going to finish the job. He’s holding his breath and has his finger on the trigger, butso do I.
I send it.
The rifle recoils into my shoulder, thunder striking, and the silencer stops the ringing of what you would typically hear once a non-muzzled shot is fired into a warzone.
My eyes never leave his body. A flash of red sprays everywhere around him, and his rifle immediately falls to the ground along with his spiritless flesh and bones.
Humming the same tune, I always do when I get a kill confirmed, I whisper into the mics, “Target eliminated.”
“Why do you hum the same song?” Kane asks softly, barely decipherable over the rain and thunder.
I tilt my head to the side and crack my stiff neck.
“Maybe one day, I’ll share the story with you, loverboy.”
“Great job tonight.I can’t believe you found that sniper. You saved all those men tonight.” Admiral Ravenmore crosses his fingers, intertwining them as he leans in his chair.
The mission is over. A job well done.
“Because of you, that marine who was shot gets to live another day. They all do.”
I nod, not sure what to say. I’m not good at these things. I stand in a small office room in front of his wooden desk with neatly piled paperwork and one photo framed of him and his wife. We’re back on base and returned safely aftertaking fire. I stand in my uniform, my half mask on, and my hands crossed behind my back.
Fuck, I’m tired. My uniform is still soaked from all that rain.
“Just following orders, sir...how is he doing?” I ask.
“He’s stable. He might lose his leg, unfortunately.”
I swallow the guilt forming in my chest. My hands turn into fists, and the demons start to scream. Even though I eliminated the threat, I failed. I failed because blood was spilled. I know shit happens, and it’s out of my control.
But I like to be in control.
That’s war.
Seven years in, four deployments later, I’ve learned and seen who the true monsters are in this world.
Humans.
They’re people inflicting pain and evil on others because they can.
War is unforgiving, brutal, and, most of all, unfair.
“Grim left,” He stands, walking towards a closed cabinet with a lock on it.
