Free Heart of Annihilation by C.R. Asay Page A

find a single clean shot quick enough to save Thurmond. The racking of a pistol made my finger freeze on the trigger.
    “Where’s Rose, Corporal?” Sanderford barked. The boots scuffed up a great deal of dust, muting their individuality.
    Door hinges complained. A moment later, a grunt of pain sounded from inside the Hummer. My head pounded. I could barely make out the words through my hollow left ear.
    The scuffling of feet. A dragging sound. The boots stepped quickly back and a camo-clad body fell onto the ground. Thurmond’s blue eyes stared at me for one second, tight and angry, before he was yanked upward. Only the backs of his boots were now visible.
    “Don’t make me ask again, Thurmond.” A soft thud and oomph of air released from his lungs. Thurmond’s hand and knee appeared. “Where’s Rose?”
    “W-why would I know w-where she is?” Thurmond wheezed and coughed, a painful wracking sound.
    “I’m telling you, Sanderford, he doesn’t know anything,” Justet said. “You think she’s hiding in his cargo pockets or something?”
    “Or something. Lewis, check inside the Hummer. Make sure she’s not under a tarp or a blanket.”
    The Hummer rocked and the wheel above my head slid further into the ditch. I slid with it. Thumps pounded over my head and a minute later a voice spoke.
    “Nothin’ here, Sarge.”
    “W-why do you want Rose anyway?” Thurmond said.
    “Dust coming!” The nasally, broken-nosed voice of Private Luginbeel called out from farther away.
    “Last chance, Corporal.”
    “Come on, we’ve got to go. Someone’s coming!”
    “Where’s Rose?”
    Another thud sent Thurmond gasping and coughing again. I pressed a hand to my mouth.
    “If he’d seen her she’d be in the Hummer with him, Sanderford!”
    “Tell me where she is!”
    “Bring him with us—”
    “Where is she?”
    I clenched the grip of the rifle. I could take the shot. Any shot to stop this.
    “Sergeant Sanderford!” Justet seemed to remember his officer’s rank and dragged it out from where it had been hiding with his backbone. “Tie him up. We’ll take him with us. That’s an order! Let the boss decide what to do with him.”
    A moment of silence and then Thurmond’s hand and knee disappeared. The boots scuffed up more dirt and thumped out of sight.
    Somewhere in my mind I saw myself rising from behind the Humvee and placing a bullet into the back of Sanderford’s head. My fictional self then raced around the vehicle and beat the snot out of Justet and the rest of his cronies, after which Thurmond and I would turn over the survivors to the MPs for the court martial—a great heroic act that remained dormant in my mind.
    I remained where I was, a single soldier with a single round. Even if I made the perfect shot I would still have a half a dozen other soldiers and their dozens of rounds to contend with. I know what I’d do in their boots. Put a gun to Thurmond’s head and threaten to kill him. That’s what my heroics would get me. That’s what it would get Thurmond.
    I stayed under the Hummer, hands tight on the rifle. The stench of motor oil burned my nose and something else burned my eyes. The rifle seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, my legs a million. It took everything I had to force myself to stay still, to avoid the easiest, most violent option. My head hurt.
    Somewhere out there a motor started with a rumble. Voices argued. The old, loose gears of the Deuce ground into drive, and still I didn’t move. Tires crunched on gravel. The vehicle picked up speed and the sound diminished in the distance.
    Nothing. Silence. Still I stayed under the Hummer, my mind rattling over the insanity of my plan. Again and again and again and again.
    A breeze lifted a curl of hair and brushed it against my cheek. Startled, I batted it away. My foot jerked. Then the rest of me moved. I slowly slid out from under the Hummer and crawled out to the road, dragging the rifle along behind me.
    I gazed down the empty road