“You gonna eat that?”
“Huh?”
“Your food,” I look over, it’s Tommy. “I got clean up today. Like to finish fast so I can get some coffee too.”
“Oh, yeah, take it.”
My eyes close again, but my mind stubbornly stays on full alert. Just let me get some sleep goddamn it.
“What a babe,” says Vance.
I guess he stayed back too. He’s holding a picture. “What’s that?”
“Her, she’s cute.”
“Gimmie that.” I snatch the photo. “How did you get this?”
“Woah, calm down. Found it by your bag just now.” He takes his little red notebook, going through the pages smiling. “I got some pictures of a few girls back home too.” I fold and pocket the photo. He persists, “She’s not even indecent or anything, it’s a good picture of her is all. You never told me.”
“Told us what?” says Isaac. He and Alex return with Styrofoam cups of steaming coffee. They sit down against the sandbag wall with us, and Isaac hands me a cup.
I take a long sip, the coffee burns my throat but I don’t care for I can already feel it fight off my weariness. “Nothing,” I say.
“His hot babe back at home,” says Vance.
“Serena?” says Isaac.
“Ah, that’s her name?” says Vance.
“Yeah, sure.”
“How long you dated?”
Isaac starts. “Well they—”
“A year now,” I blurt.
Isaac glances at me. Vance, oblivious, goes back to his red notebook writing, “Well that’s great for you. Hope you get to see her again.”
“Thanks.”
I give up on sleep and get up. “Gonna go piss before we’re ordered out.”
I leave, and after walking a little, hear additional footsteps. I turn around to Isaac tailing me. “What’s up?” he says.
“Nothing, gonna piss.”
“You’re not dating Serena anymore.”
“I know. Don’t bring it up, rather leave it as is.”
“There’s nothing wrong with still having a picture of her, you know,” he spanks my side, “with lack of other materials out here.”
“Shut up. It’s not—never mind.”
“It’s not?” I turn to look at him, he grins. Fuck, he figured it out. “It’s not Serena? Who is it, charmer?”
“Doesn’t matter, man.”
“And what did Vance say? She was all dressed up. Now I am really perplexed here. Can’t be your mom, unless, Vance is into that.”
“My god.”
We reach the outhouse in the center of our camp, a plastic porta-potty. I grab the door handle but Isaac holds it from completely opening. “Let me see it.”
“No… why?”
“C’mon. We never hid anything from each other. Is it a recent girl you were eyeing before the war?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“C’mon then.”
I sigh, there’s no point with Isaac. I retrieve the photo and hold it out for him to look and he grabs it. “Hey!”
“Hold on!” he walks around in a circle as if he’s earnestly critiquing it. “She is cute, but she’s not your style. Got no titties showing.”
“Okay, give it over.”
“Don’t be salty.”
“I am not salty.”
Isaac returns the photo and takes out his box of ancients. “You know, that was the saltiest way someone ever said they’re not salty.”
“Get out of her, unless you’re gonna hold it for me.”
“Sorry,” Isaac lights his ancient and brings it to his mouth, “mine requires both hands, unlike you.” He winks.
“You are a dick.” I close the door.
Isaac taps the side of the structure. “Make sure to aim while you’re in there too, don’t want to sit on your piss.”
“Jesus Christ. Can I go in peace? I’ll fucking piss all over the door if you don’t go.”
“Saaalty,” I hear him yodel as he walks away.
With him finally gone, I can get to why I’m really here. I plant the picture against the wall, and unzip to stroke. But after a while, I can’t even get hard. Her image has been tarnished for me somehow—or maybe it was the lack of the buildup I am used to that I don’t have access to anymore. I put the photo away, but something still plays at the farthest boundaries of my mind. I know it’s something else.
“Anyone in there?”
“Almost done.” I zip up and open the door for the next guy, and walk back to the unit. It’s something… all well, there’s more important shit to worry about.
Supply trucks coming back from the frontline pause near us, their engines rumbling. The camp we hastily set up last week is completely broken down and in a few big piles. Only a few craters and depressions in the dirt remain to mark where tents and trenches were placed, and some trash that has by now become an invasive species to this planet ever since we arrived.
“Hop on!” says Tarnus.
The whole platoon of Love is present, but after the siege and Tionem we have been reduced enough to be able to fit squished inside two utility trucks. Only twenty nine exhausted marines remain. The rest injured at medical in Jericho, or in a wooden ark in hyperspace back to Earth. Our truck bogs down the side of a freeway on a makeshift dirt road. The entire freeway has been retained for forward traffic to the front only, all eight lanes transiting supplies and soldiers. Those of us going the opposite way are lucky enough to get rides on the return vehicles if we can catch one—Tarnus has his benefits.
After an hour the outskirts of Jericho present itself. Endless lines of vehicles going forward pass us on the left. Black smoke still fumes from within the city, wrapping around the skeleton remains of skyscrapers and feeding an ugly cloud that rests above the city. A horde of civilians cross our way, dragging supplies on carts and in huge cloth bags. The truck pauses and honks. We look over the side at them.
“Going to the city?” says a guy from Golf.
“Yeah, I guess,” says another. “But where did they come from?”
“East,” says Tarnus, “where the war is heading.”
They’re dirty than us. Filthy and mud covered, that if I were superstitious, I would think them golems rising from the earth to enact revenge. One man carrying a bag stops to grab a child by the wrist, causing all of his contents to spill out. Gold and silver coins of different varieties fall into the mud. He drops to his knees, shoveling piles of mud and coin back into the bag. The truck honks a long roar this time, and begins moving forward. The man grabs as many coins as possible as the truck approaches, and then digs into the depressions the tires left behind after we pass. The kid grabs a particular coin and shows it to his father. The man stops all of his previous work and hugs the kid while he cries. They leave back with the refugee line, the rest of his coins and stuffed bag left behind.
“Shit, isn’t the rest of it still worth a lot?” says Vick.
“I would think,” says Isaac.
“Not as much as that one,” says Blake leaning off the edge of the truck, holding something tight in his closed hand. What could it be?
A booming siren echoes from the city and down the freeway. The trucks stop and we hop out at the ready. “Herc barrage coming in hot!” says a microphone somewhere. We dig into the mud, becoming our own golems. After a few moments, one of the guys has to crawl back out to scare some civilians away trying to loot our abandoned trucks. We quickly learn that only Jericho is the target and we exit our sloppy defenses to watch.
“Getting the shit beat out of them,” mumbles a marine.