Free Forsaken World:Coming of Age by Thomas A Watson

were heading home. “Done and on the way,” Lance called over the radio.
    “About time, copy,” Jennifer snapped.
    “Your girlfriend seems mad,” Lance said, holding on as Ian weaved between the trees.
    Ian chuckled. “Show me a girl that’s not.”
    “Stop at the draw where the pile is at,” Lance said, looking back at the cans of fuel. “You couldn’t find a five-gallon gas can instead of a bunch of little ones?”
    “No, they only had five one-gallon cans of diesel. That two-gallon can is the biggest can of gas I found, and it’s mixed for a chainsaw,” Ian said.
    When they reached the spot, Lance looked down into the valley. “I’m thinking walk down and sneak up on their ass and cap them then burn the pile.”
    Shaking his head, Ian looked down the draw. “You realize that means walking back up this steep bitch.”
    “We can carry the gas down with us and just come back up and leave,” Lance said.
    “Fine,” Ian groaned. “How close you want to get?”
    “Close enough to see if this hot shit is worth wearing.”
    “Amen to that,” Ian said and got out. “This is the hottest March I can remember.”
    Making sure Dino stayed close, they crept down the draw, and when they were a hundred yards away, their eyes started burning. “Fuck, that’s nasty,” Lance groaned, setting his cans down.
    Trying not to cough as the smell hurt his lungs, Ian looked at Lance. “This is wrong on so many scales; I can’t even start to formulate my bitching.”
    Dino let out a loud snort. “Dino, we’re trying to be sneaky, and that’s not it,” Lance said, holding in a cough. “Aw, piss on this shit. Ian, take left. I’m on the right; let’s just walk out, and if they haven’t noticed us at twenty feet, let’s just cap them.”
    Ian nodded, pulling out his Ruger as Lance walked calmly down the draw. The closer they got, the worse the smell became. It felt like their lungs were burning. When they walked out of the tree line, the stinkers were thirty yards away, and all of them turned to the two bushes that walked out of the tree line with a big ass dog. None of them moved toward them, and many looked away.
    When Lance was fifteen yards from the first one—a short, fat, naked woman—he raised his pistol. “Stinky fat ass bitch,” he said, holding his breath and pulling the trigger of the Ruger, which made a cough that split the quiet. As soon as Lance spoke, all of them started moving to them.
    “You need to wipe your ass,” Ian said, shooting a young girl.
    Trying not to cough as his lungs burned, Lance moved from target to target as his eyes watered. When he didn’t see any more, he said, “Ian, back up the draw,” still trying to hold his breath.
    They took off running and passed the gas cans, moving further up the draw. “Fuck me, that’s nasty,” Ian coughed. “They are going to conquer the world with stink alone.”
    “I think I coughed my nuts up,” Lance said and dropped to his knees, puking.
    “Why’d you have to do that?” Ian groaned and dropped down, gagging.
    Lance laid back, still not breathing deep because he could still smell them, but it didn’t burn his nose and lungs. “We have to move those bodies close to the pile and light it.”
    “Fuck that. I’ll pour gas on them,” Ian said, looking down the draw. “Only one is not touching the pile.”
    “Let’s get this done so we can leave,” Lance said, standing up.
    “We are playing rock, paper, scissors to see who has to light it,” Ian said, struggling to get up.
    With his eyes watering, Lance shook his head. “I’ll light the motherfucker. Come on,” he said as he grabbed the can of gas and took a deep breath then ran down the draw. When he had to take another breath, it actually hurt his lungs as he ran around the pile, pouring gas. He pulled out his knife and stabbed the can several times then tossed it on the pile and ran back up the draw.
    After stabbing the can of diesel, Ian took off after him. When