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4
Landon
Landon dozed with his back against the boulder, fading in and out of a restless sleep during the warm California night. The service members around him snored in various positions of found comfort in the dirt field beside the parking lot where GySgt. Fuimaono had told them to wait. His eyes shot open at the slightest noise, the ocean breeze rustling through the palm trees or someone calling out in their sleep, and then he settled back down again to chase the dream of her face as it alluded him once more.
“You’re still here, Doc?”
Landon sat up straight in the eerie shade of dark before the dawn and scanned the parking lot to see Sgt. Sierra’s silhouette stumbling towards him.
“I’m here.” Landon sighed. Even though I don’t want to be. His restraint was breaking and dark voices were urging him to run, to give everything up and go home now.
“Can you believe this shit?” The lighter clicked in Sierra’s hand as he fumbled to start the flame. He slid down next to Landon just as the fire caught and lit the end of the cigarette dangling from his lips.
Landon stretched out his back and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I thought you quit.”
“I did, but you know the saying, she only smokes when she drinks.” Sierra blew out a plume of smoke that hung heavy in the air.
Dew coated Landon’s cammies and he rubbed his hand against the material as if he could dry it off. He was tired of all this and didn’t feel like entertaining his drunk friend, but Sierra had settled in, staring at him with bloodshot and expecting eyes, leaving him no choice. “Believe what shit?”
Sierra seemed lost for a moment, blinking as he scanned the sleeping Marines, and then took in another drag. “Did you hear about the nuke leak?”
“I heard the rumors.” Landon reached for the cigarette. He didn’t like to smoke but his stomach was growling and tension had formed knots in his back. The nicotine ran through his veins, taking the edge off, and he blew out a thick cloud before handing it back.
Sierra sighed as he leaned against the boulder. “Supposedly they were in the middle of transferring some vat of waste to the cooling tanks when the power cut out at the plant. Some guy wasn’t following protocol or something and now they’ve got to clear the area for fifty miles. Word is that we’re moving all the equipment to 29 Palms. I’m supposed to attach the second convoy next week. They’re not even giving us leave.”
Landon shifted his legs beneath him so the M4 rested across his lap as a bitter taste filled his mouth. He’d heard about the situation, but what didn’t sit well was denying dependents base access while they figured out how to relocate the civilians living here. They didn’t even tell her anything. The only saving grace was that his house was out of the precautionary zone and his family would be safe.
“But hey,” Sierra laughed as he tapped Landon’s shoulder, “at least you get to go find your family. I can’t even get in touch with mine. I guess it’s lucky they weren’t flying in until the day before homecoming and they weren’t in the air when the storm hit. Hopefully they aren’t all dead.”
Landon’s face fell and his thumb moved carefully to his ring. The small tear in the silicone hadn’t gotten any bigger, but he didn’t want to risk breaking it now.
“Tessa and the kids are going to be excited to see you.” He didn’t have anything else to offer, but it was enough to make Sierra smile. The setting moon broke free from the cover of a cloud and cast a soft glow on his face.
Sierra crushed the cigarette butt into the dirt and jumped to his feet. “Don’t leave without me.” His sandals slapped against the pavement as he took off running.
“Where the hell are you going?” Landon called out after him, silently cursing as the Marines on the ground began to stir.
Sierra paused and let out a loud belch as he turned to look over his shoulder. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”
Tires squealed on the asphalt as the twelve-seater duty van careened into the parking lot just when the first signs of early dawn turned the world a heavy coated gray. The headlight beams danced over the group. A morning wakeup call.
GySgt. Fuimaono left the engine running and jumped from the driver seat as he raced to the back, pulling a brown box out by its plastic strap and dropping it on the dirt. “Hurry up and eat.”
The troops descended on the cardboard like a pack of hungry dogs, grabbing plastic pouches and tearing them open with their teeth. Landon hung back as he watched their faces flinch in the bright headlights of the van and take whatever MRE flavor they were served.
Cpl. Hemming, HM3 Cooper, and LCpl. Wallis he’d met on more than one occasion. There was another lance corporal and another corporal, LCpl. Launce and Cpl. Bailey, who’d stuck close together throughout the night. He read the name tags of the other two sergeants who had been aloof, offering no more than a nod as they’d gathered their rifles from the armory and then preferring the silence as they waited. Brittany and Forges. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t treated any of them for medical issues yet.
Landon glanced back at the duty vehicle warily. Between himself, Gunny, and the troops there were nine seats taken. He made us wait all night for a van?
“If this is a recovery mission, shouldn’t we be riding in something bigger?” Cpl. Hemming spoke between bites of cold and coagulated cheese tortellini. “I’ve got four kids.”
“Just eat,” GySgt. Fuimaono said, narrowing his eyes at the Marine. And then he turned to the rest of them. “You, Doc, come with me.” HM3 Cooper and Landon both stood at attention, but Gunny’s gaze was fixated on Landon.
Landon snatched up one of the last of the MRE packets and ripped it open, separating the contents into his pants pockets as he followed behind Gunny to the other side of the van.
The Samoan warrior bent to fit his head inside and pulled out a clipboard with a blank sheet of paper as he fumbled in his breast pocket for a government issued pen. “Get me the locations of everyone’s families so we can plot the route. I want to push through the main gate first.”
I don’t. “Aye, Gunny.” Landon turned, keeping his lips pressed together tight. The main gate would take them south and his house was much further to the north. Each second wasted was a tick that clawed at his spine. He touched his ring for comfort as the irritation grew. Out of habit, his thumb moved to spin it and the pull of the tear in the silicone band moved another fraction of an inch. He closed his hand in a fist around it as he marched across the parking lot to obey orders.
