The Rundown

Spartan was focused on a map when Sarge brought Andy into the room. Another man was with him; an old gentleman with a single epaulet on his left shoulder. He was saying something while pointing at an area near one of the corners. He stopped mid-sentence when Sarge announced his and Andy’s presence. The older man walked over and held out a hand.

“I am Commandant Leonard Cahill,” he said. “Spartan assures me you’re from the same place he is.”

Andy placed his hand in the Commandant’s, wincing at the man’s grip.

Spartan walked up and patted Andy on the back. “I can assure you, sir, Crusader here is absolutely from the same place as me. His identification card, his clothes, everything. He even lived in the territory just north of me.”

“Glad to have you here, son,” Cahill said with a smile. “I trust you’ll live up to the example of your otherworldly brothers.”

Exactly what expectation is he talking about?

“How do you feel?” asked Spartan. “Rested, ready to go?”

“I guess so.”

“Good.” He led him toward the map. “As you’ve figured out by now, you’re not in Kansas anymore. I came here a year ago, Viking got here eight months ago. We still don’t have any idea why. Freak accident? Magic? God?” He shrugged. “Who the Hell knows? But this place is a lot like home. Or, as it was. Plants are the same, animals are the same. Even a lot of people’s names are the same.”

“Are the languages all the same, too?” Andy asked.

Spartan laughed. “No. I don’t think they are, at least. It’s hard to tell, though, because we can understand everyone here. Can read everything here, too. But everyone here can understand us. Don’t forget that.”

Andy shook his head. “But where is here? Did we go back in time?”

“No.” Spartan pointed at a spot on the map, a little dot labeled Älgenhul. “This never existed in our world. Neither did this castle, or any of the countries, like Al-Khardi and Alkenia.” He chuckled. “Welcome to Narnia: World War Edition. Hope you weren’t wanting to meet the Lion, because he hasn’t shown up yet. Oh, and there’s one other thing. Viking and I, when we came, we turned the tide of the war.” He gave Andy an expectant look.

Andy said nothing. So that was the expectation the Commandant had. That was unfortunate for him. He didn’t care about talking animals from fantasy books. He didn’t care about turning a tide. He only cared about one thing: “How do we get home?”

“I already told you. There is no way home.”

The heat rose in Andy’s face. “Bullshit! There has to be! I’m not staying here to fight some war! I’m a nobody from Wyoming, and that’s where I’m going back to!”

Commandant Cahill put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, kid, I know it’s hard. We’ve all had to sacrifice a lot for—”

He pulled himself from the Commandant’s grip. “We’ve done nothing. You. You sacrificed for this war. Good for you. This isn’t my world. This isn’t my war. I have no obligation here. Spartan says you guys have people looking into it?” Cahill opened his mouth to speak. “Good. Take me to them. I’m going home.”

“That’s not exactly feasible right—”

“I don’t give a damn.”

Cahill puffed out his chest. “Now listen here. I get your situation isn’t exactly easy. But I do not tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone in the ranks.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. “Newsflash, I’m not in your ranks. I don’t have to listen to your orders.”

“Okay, okay,” Spartan said loud enough to get their attention. “I think now is not the time. Calhoun, what all is on your agenda today?”

Andy looked back at the sergeant. In the heat of the moment, he forgot all about him.

“Sir, I want to start running formations with the men. It’s been a while and I don’t want them getting soft.”

“Good. I reckon Viking found that same thing in Älgenhul. I want you to take Crusader with you so he doesn’t get lost. But for now, he’s still just a civvy. Remember that.”

Sarge gave that same salute Andy had seen before, raising his right hand to his left shoulder. “Yes, sir. Come on, Crusader.”

#

When he was alone again with Commandant Cahill, Spartan found himself lost in thought. Crusader was reminding him of himself. The only major difference was Spartan had experience in the Marines. Once he knew where he was and what was going on, he was all for it. It was a chance at the glory he was denied so many years ago. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder about his wife back home, his kids. Cahill snapped him back to the reality around him.

“If Calhoun is right, we are in trouble,” Cahill said. “We know they’ve been coordinating something between Älgenhul and their little outpost down south. They must have two airships, and they’re gunning for us.”

Spartan shook his head. “If I know Viking, he’s not letting Älgenhul’s get here in one piece. I don’t know how he’ll do it, but he will. That means we can use the caves for evac if need be.”

“The Alkenians could repair whatever Viking does,” Cahill countered. “If anything, we may have only delayed the fall of the Alliance.” He nodded toward the door. “Especially if that’s what we have to help us.”

“Stop.” Spartan had no desire to listen to someone so out-of-touch with the situation. “I have a military background. Viking is a criminal. Far as I can tell, Crusader has neither. That means this whole situation is alien to him in more ways than one.”

Cahill scoffed. “If you do get back, you should get your people to make service mandatory. It turns boys like that into real men.”

“I don’t disagree with you, but the country we’re from believes in freedom. The right to choose your own path, the freedom to forge your own destiny.” Spartan tapped the U.S. flag pin on his uniform. It was small, easy to miss by most people. “That is the Spirit of America.”

“Well your America is flawed.”

He’s not fully wrong, Spartan thought, but of course Cahill doesn’t get it. It didn’t matter. Crusader was there for a reason, just like him or Viking. He never said anything, but he always wondered if it really was God who did this to them. The circumstances for each of them was exactly the same: this world needed their help. He only wondered what Crusader was needed for.