Page 6

The crossfire created a steady beat. Broken voices and screams of agony filled the air, burning into memory like a song my mind couldn’t shake.

I couldn’t tune out the noise, so I added my own. I roared, draining my lungs, until my voice cracked. When the adrenaline faded, my focus snapped back to the task.

Bullets flew from the machine gun, casings littering the ground. I glanced at the pile, wondering how many other halves had ended a life today.

Didn’t bother counting. Instinct took over. Reload, fire, repeat.

This unit worked on one setting: clear out. House after house, street after street. We cleared villages, securing them before moving on. The sun could set, darkness consuming the clouds, and we’d still be going.

I took a drag from the hand-rolled cigarette, letting the burn seep into my lungs, poison sliding down my throat.

Pulling off my helmet, I ran my hand through the tangled mess of curls.

A buzz cut wasn’t looking like such a bad idea now.

Layers of filth coated me, the uniform sticking like a second skin.

I itched to take it off but made no move.

Red-dirt-covered boots came into view at the bottom of the steps. I lifted my gaze to Orest, the last man from the alpha team besides me. He was the only one I knew by name.

The two of us had pushed through the first weeks, nights spent on the front porch of this wooden shed. The cheap finish had worn away where we sat. A jar of buds rested on the makeshift table. On good nights, we scored a bottle of vodka to pass the time.

He sat beside me, voicing the same question. “How far?”

I took a drag, calculating. “Sixteen miles.”

He nodded, turning toward the expanse. Together, we scanned the outskirts of camp. It wasn’t our turn to guard, but we did it anyway.

Orest twisted the cap off the bottle, gulping it down until tears gushed from his eyes.

I watched him battle the burn in my peripheral vision, a chuckle forming in my throat.

He was so damn young. If you didn’t know better, you’d mistake him for a pirate.

And he sure behaved like one. No wonder we bonded.

Cloudless nights like tonight were the most peaceful, but silence had a way of creeping up on you. When everything quieted, the endless sounds of agony kept playing in your head. Voices whispering from all directions.

A natural state for me. I looked at my hands, seeing the blood they carried long before I stepped foot on this continent.

Out of all the traps you could land in, I knew it was the anticipation that really got to you if you let it.

It corrupted your mind with ideas, with visions of what’s to come.

But in this godforsaken land, the dust swallowed every useless prediction.

Each day, it threw a new dust ball at you until you were coughing blood.

It pushed you until you became one with the land.

I shook off the thoughts, accepting the alcohol Orest passed me .

This late into the mission, I lost count of how many bodies we shipped out. How many locals we buried. The more soldiers they sent, the more messages I typed out.

There came a time when we stopped using names, only referring to ourselves by numbers. A single file in the main office held the key to our identities, its edges smudged with dirty fingerprints.

All except for mine. I had no name. No home address. No point of contact.

Dawn was nearing when I stood up from the porch. Orest dozed off sometime after losing his third card game. He was a hell of a sore loser. A non-believer in my winning streak. His bruised chin rested against the bulletproof vest, and I flicked his nose like I did every morning.

The camp stirred awake, embracing another day. Soldiers awaited the drivers by the buggies loaded at the gate.

Every morning, we carved the same path of footprints, only for the wind to erase them by the time we returned. All of us locked in a dangerous guessing game, unsure which step would be our last.

“How far?” Orest asked again at the end of the day.

“Ten miles.”

I could already sense the next question when he lowered his head.

“And then?”

The answer was the same as it had been from the start, but he needed to hear it again. “Then we reach the coast and go home.”

“What’s home for you?” the youngster asked. His eyes searched my face, waiting for a reaction.

During the endless hours we shared, I never once spoke about the civilian world.

Home was family, but family was also the organization we belonged to. Yet here I was, in the middle of nowhere, punishing myself .

To enhance the weapon, you have to calibrate it. That’s what the Bratva did with me. They shipped me off, hoping for a long-term return on their investment.

You can’t teach an old mutt new tricks, but you can convince it to keep learning.

Well, they didn’t have to convince me twice. I jumped at the opportunity, eager to let the thoughts and impulses roam free.

I could be their monster. Here or there, it didn’t matter.

There was no end, only more tasks. No escaping the brotherhood. No escaping the war. No escaping anything.

I ground my teeth, answering Orest’s question. “It’s the same.”

The slam of the door behind me echoed through the camp. That night, I stayed inside, bracing myself for the last day.

A wave of resistance traveled through my body when the dry desert air dampened. Seagulls circled above, navigating the orange hue from the smoke rising in the sky.

The coastline wasn’t welcoming. The sea was rough, beating against the rocks.

I sat down in full gear, closing my eyes for a moment.

My fingers trailed through the sand, grabbing a handful of grains and crushing them with all the strength I had.

The deep cuts from constant reloading burned as the particles entered them.

I squeezed even harder until my fingers met my palm, and the sand slipped through, returning to its original form.

A chuckle escaped my mouth. Before I knew it, I was rolling on the beach, each laugh growing more manic.

I strived to be uncrushable, like the sand, but the last stretch proved me so fucking wrong.

Each muscle ached. Each move hurt. But it was the never-ending burn at the back of my neck that seared, not just from the pain but from the actions that led to it .

I resisted touching the spot, wary of infections. I’d give that fucker a month or two to heal before visiting a friend in Jersey. About time I added to the collection of art.

“This is it.” Orest joined the shitshow, interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, focusing on the seagulls above.

We sat on the beach for a good while, comfortable in shared silence as we did on any other night, until the rotor blades interrupted the moment.

“I fear worse things await me there,” Orest whispered, his head turning toward the helicopter heading our way.

I slowly stood, pressing my shoe into the sand to bury the blood I left behind.

“Stop fearing, and they won’t,” I shared my wisdom, patting his back as we walked toward the group.

I didn’t fear danger. Danger and I had an understanding. I became it before I let others take it.

Responsibility awaited me at home instead. My older brother had called with the news long ago. Father retired to Russia. It was our turn.

I was allowed this one time. A rare chance to escape life as I knew it. But it was ending.

For sixteen months, I’d exchanged one hell for another.

But the true hell of my mind? I’d never escape.