ꜰᴜʀʏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3

"We're it." Don looked at Natalia on his side before looking back at the young man. Above them, Grady and Gordo sat on the tank, awaiting for their next instruction. Natalia knew the conversation between the sergeant and the lieutenant wouldn't carry on with her in that close of proximity. Not everyone took kindly to the female gunner. Tension between the soldier and lieutenant were always high. Instead, she climbed her way up the tank to find a relatively comfortable seat to take with her crew.

"Hey, Boyd? They're gonna send him home, right?" Grady asked, careful to not let his emotions show too heavily.

"I don't know that, Grady." Bible answered truthfully, never taking his eyes off the direction that Red's body went. Natalia looked too. She hoped he'd be sent home, despite the condition he was in. She knew his wife would rather bury a deformed body than no body at all.

Grady and Gordo jumped off the tank upon Boyd beckoning them over. The preacher took notice of their distress over Red's death, so he offered them a comforting hug. They graciously obliged, giving them the opportunity to express their grief for a short moment. Natalia squeezed her way into the embrace, her head resting on Gordo's shoulder. Grady audibly sobbed, feeling comfortable enough to do so in front of the three. Gordo mumbled words of sorrow in Spanish, including a prayer for Red's soul. Natalia stood quiet, her arms wrapped around Trini's and Grady's bodies.

"Red's got us all a little sad right now." Don faced his crew, catching sight of their strong hold on one another. When they released, Natalia felt the urge to scream and yell at him. A 'little' was an understatement; "but we got a job to do. Grady, restock ammo. Gordo, water and gas. Boyd, get some chow and do what you can about the mechanical issues. Dove? Go stock up your bag with rations."

The rules rarely changed whenever they returned to base. Everyone had their part to play, and all their parts were equally important. Grady worked with the artillery, so of course he was given the job of restocking ammo. Gordo was the driver, so refilling the tank with gas seemed logical. Boyd was one of the three mechanics in the crew and Natalia had a special way of looting rations that the tankers wouldn't normally receive.

"We can't do shit about mechanical issues." Bible declared as they all watched Don start to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Natalia asked as she took a few steps forward, hesitating on following him. Don didn't respond, he just kept walking. She trailed far behind the sergeant until she followed him behind the gas tanks.

Don suddenly crouched down, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. His breathing grew heavy. He knew the girl had followed him, and a small part of him was thankful. He was miserable after Red's death, and maybe she could help him like she helps the others. She seemed to posses that special gift. Natalia placed a hand on Don's shoulder before she kneeled down behind him, slowly wrapping her arms around him in a hug. No matter how angry she was at him, not even fifteen minutes ago, he had a special place in her heart. Everyone knew that, including him. Don finally grew to accept the fact she was special to him too. He wiped the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes before holding her hands in his, giving them a small squeeze of gratitude. Behind them, troops stomped their feet in the mud in a march. To Don, the stomping was growing louder by the millisecond. The man gripped Natalia's hands one last time, grounding himself before he looked behind him, catching her eye. Despite being covered in mud, sweat and other indescribable things, she looked beautiful to him.

Natalia released Don from her grasp, a small smile on her face. She didn't say a word as she got up from the ground and attempted to wipe her gloved hands clean on her stained pant legs. Don turned back around and took a drag from his cigarette, giving Natalia the cue to walk back to the tank.