Kamikaze

Every time Andy looked outside, it was the same: men fired away into the air, all the while the plane deftly avoided being hit. He eventually stopped looking. The sound of gunfire droned on like a monotonous tune, accompanied by a continuous ringing. Polski kept in touch with the rest of the castle, waiting for some development to pass on. Sanders smashed a window out of boredom at one point so he could take shots at the plane. Andy couldn’t bring himself to fire. He sat in the corner of the room, away from the door, all the while justifying his decision on the grounds of not wanting to waste ammunition that could be needed later. The ringing kept him from noticing immediately when the gunfire stopped, but he did notice when Sarge, Coulson, and several other soldiers came bursting inside.

“GET DOWN!”

Andy backed further into his corner. A resounding boom shook the castle’s stone bricks, followed by orange light. Sarge immediately stood to run back outside. Coulson and Sanders both followed him.

“Holy...”

“Get down there!” Sarge yelled. “I want to know who’s alive and who’s dead.”

The men all shuffled out of the room. Andy went, too, unsure of what else to do. He was also curious about what happened. He regretted that curiosity the minute he stepped outside.

The plane was down, but so was the defense. What once was an ordered line of sandbags and mortars was now mounds of dirt, broken parts, and corpses. The plane was a mangled burning heap. Based on the dirt mounds, the pilot skid it across the ground. Andy opened his mouth to say something or to just make a noise, but nothing came out. He just stood there silently mimicking a fish out of water. Sarge’s orders were already being carried out; men on the wall were heading down, evaluating the damage.

“Sir, most of these mortars are out of commission,” one soldier called up.

“Damn it,” Sarge muttered. “Are there any survivors?” he called out.

“Some, but they all need medical attention.”

He looked up at the Warmonger. It was almost above the pillboxes on the shore. “Get them to medical, and hurry. I also want more mortars up here before that ship gets above that shore!”

“Yes, sir!”

He turned to Andy. “Looks like I’ve got a job for you,” he said.

Andy swallowed. “For me?”

Sarge nodded.

#

Andy moved as fast as he could with the injured soldier leaning against him. He helped the man to the infirmary, making up for the man’s damaged leg and leaving all the more badly hurt soldiers for the others. Physically he didn’t regret the decision. The man was, with Andy’s help, effectively hobbling down the corridors. Andy’s problem was the soldier’s muttering, specifically with one phrase.

“Where’s my mom? I need to show her I’m okay.”

The man kept asking about his mom every few minutes, and Andy could only assume he hit his head. It was unnerving to have that repeated in his ear. All he could do was keep moving forward, and think. Except thinking didn’t take him away from his horror, it only reminded him of its depths. His own mom was back on Earth. If those television shows didn’t lie, then he had been gone long enough he would now be considered a missing person. A search would definitely be underway by now if it wasn’t before. His dad would be in it, but his mom would probably be at home, trying not to think about how her baby boy hasn’t been seen alive since falling into a river. Would she be doing menial tasks to keep her mind off of it? Or was she weeping and praying that God would bring her boy back? He read about the five stages of grief for a class once. What stage was she at? He knew whichever it was, it wouldn’t be acceptance for a long, long time. Was there a way to let her know? Spartan said the animal and plant life was the same as Earth. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence?

He followed the other soldiers into a room filled with cots. A man in a coat came rushing up to them as they entered.

“Bring them in, bring them in,” he said, motioning to open spaces. “I’ll take him.”

Andy found himself relieved when the doctor took the man from him. Finally, he would not have that muttering in his ear. Nurses were guiding the other injured men around the room. He saw a couple other doctors looking at people. Andy glanced over to see the doctor who greeted him was already evaluating the man’s leg.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

“He’ll be fine,” the doctor said. “What happened?”

“The plane, it kamikazed.”

Without breaking his medical stride, the doctor looked up. “Kamikazed?”

“Yeah, kamikazed. It just crashed into the defense line out front.”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” the doctor asked as he jotted down notes about his patient. “Those other world people, right?”

“Yes,” Andy answered. “I am.”

“Does Calhoun want you going back up there?”

“I... I mean, I don’t know if...” he stammered out.

“Come here.”

Andy stepped toward the doctor. He pulled out a stethoscope and slipped the cold metal up under Andy’s shirt. Andy shivered at the touch. The doctor moved the stethoscope to a couple other spots on his chest, listening.

“Same as the other two,” the doctor said. “Interesting. Your heart rate’s a little elevated.”

“I wonder why,” Andy retorted.

“Nothing unusual given the circumstances. Tell me, did this man hit his head out there?”

“I didn’t see.”

The doctor grunted then called to a nurse. “Check on this patient’s head, I fear he may have suffered a head injury along with that busted leg.”

The woman politely bowed her head. “Yes, doctor.”

“You’re free to go,” the doctor said to Andy. “I’m sure Calhoun will want all his men getting back to him.”

“Are... Are you sure you don’t need more help down here?” Andy gestured at the now full infirmary.

The doctor shook his head. “We all have a job to do, soldier. Mine’s here. Yours is out there.” Scanning the room, he added, “Give those bastards hell for me.”