Free The n00b Warriors by Scott Douglas

anyone responded, another man came up behind Dylan and wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist. Dylan shoved away and demanded, “What gives?”
     
    “Relax! And hold still so I know what size pants to bring you.”
     
    Dylan waited uncomfortably as the man continued to take measurements, then said, “Hold on.”
     
    The man left, returning moments later with a pair of camouflage pants and a shirt and tossing them at Dylan. “Try these on.”
     
    “Where’s the fitting room?”
     
    The man laughed. “Where do you think you are? Drop your trousers and try them on.”
     
    Trinity looked at him and blushed.
     
    “What are you staring at?” Dylan stammered. “Turn around!”
     
    He moved as fast as he could, trying to ignore the already-uniformed, older soldiers who laughed at his skinny legs as they walked by. “They’re great,” Dylan said after he had changed, “but do you have some without the bullet hole?”
     
    “That’s not a bullet hole,” the man smirked, “it’s a patriot mark—and that’s the best I got in your size.”
     
    Dylan nodded and looked at Hunter and Trinity. “What about them?”
     
    The man glanced at them and said, “Nope. We won’t have anything that fits them down here. You’ll want to go to the infirmary—that’s where all the extra clothes are before they send them over here. They have all the smaller sizes.”
     
    #     #     #
     
    Dylan could see Trinity’s ankles and feet as her pants fell to the ground. His eyes traced up her bare ankles hypnotically, until they reached the curtain of the fitting room, and then he turned away, disappointed.
     
    “I can’t believe the girls get a fitting room,” Dylan said.
     
    Hunter held up a pair of pants with a bloodstain on the right leg, asking, “How about these?”
     
    Dylan shrugged. “Try them on.” He turned back to the fitting room just in time to see Trinity pull the pants up.
     
    “What are you staring at?” Hunter quizzed.
     
    “Nothing.”
     
    “Are you staring at Trinity?” Hunter laughed.
     
    Dylan blushed. “No.”
     
    “You were staring!” Hunter teased.
     
    “Be quiet and get dressed.”
     
    Trinity emerged from the fitting room a few moments later. “How do I look?”
     
    Before either of the boys could answer, Trinity cried, staring past them, “Look!”
     
    “What?” Dylan asked as Trinity bolted past.
     
    “It’s Sarah! She’s alive!” she replied as she ran towards a hospital bed in the back of the room.
     
    “Who’s Sarah?” Dylan called.
     
    Trinity stopped and turned around. She looked Dylan in the eye and scolded, “My roommate—the one you left for dead.”
     
    Sarah’s face was badly bruised, but she was awake when the three of them came to her. There were bloodstains in her blonde hair. Trinity took her hand immediately. “I’m so happy you’re here, Sarah—I thought you were dead.”
     
    Sarah smiled and asked, “Do you think they’ll send me home now?”
     
    “Sure, Sarah,” Trinity said compassionately.
     
    “Do you want your PSP back?” Hunter asked, stepping forward.
     
    She thought for a moment. “I don’t really play it, anyway — if you promise to write me about the war, then you can keep it.” She paused. “I’ve never known a boy on the front.”
     
    Hunter blushed, but nodded.
     
    She took a small metal bracelet off her wrist and handed to him. “My address is on the back of it.”
     
    Hunter gingerly took the delicate keepsake. He studied it for a second before putting it into his pants pocket and backing away, eyes on the ground.
     
    Dylan stood behind Hunter at a distance. He looked at the bloodstained patch on Sarah’s left shoulder; a bullet had hit her there. Not making eye contact, he softly said, “I would have gone back for you if I could have.”
     
    Sarah nodded and forced a smile.
     
    “I’m glad you’re alive.”
     
    A doctor came up to the bed then. “Say your goodbyes. We have to