Men Go to War in Search of Something

Part 5

The transmitter suddenly crackled to life, Slipko jumped. "Fox five come back, is there anyone out there?"

"Hey this is fox five," Slipko said urgently, picking up the receiver, "We hear you. Yeah. We're on a boat, on a boat headed up north river."

"A boat? How'd ya'll get a boat?"

"We met this like crazy, Santa Claus, time-traveler guy from WWII you'll meet him."

"What kind of a boat you guys got?"

"It's more of a plane than a boat really, it's called a ploat. We're on a ploat."

"We need their location Slipko," James called up to the younger man.

"Hey send up a flare so we can find you."

"Roger that fox five."

In the next few seconds a flare appeared directly in front of the boat's course. Everyone chuckled in excitement.

"Alright we have a visual, two clicks to our north."

"Roger that fox five, fox one out."

Slipko leaned back and threw his arms up in the air, "Yessssss!"

At that moment some kind of bird thing swooped out of nowhere and plucked Nieves from the front of the boat. His screams mixed with those of the ones still on board. Both James and Slipko were up in an instant, pointing their guns to the sky. But it was hopeless, even Mason knew that much. The pair slowly lowered their guns as the rest of the group joined them on the front area of the boat.

"He's gone," James told them, "Everyone pack your gear, we have to keep moving. We'll go to shore and meet up with Packard."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Brooks yelled, "Is no one gonna say anything about-"

"There's nothing to say!" Marlow told him, "He's gone and he ain't coming back."

Mason noticed that James still stood in his place, not moving like the others had. She walked a bit closer and put one hand on his arm and the other on his shoulder. She and she alone had known about the constant nightmares and flashbacks that were a part of his life. It was the sole thing that had driven him to drinking, as he tried to get the images out of his head.

She wasn't sure if he had ever succeeded.

Slowly she rubbed circles on his shoulder blade with her fingertips while keeping two fingers on his pulse. It steadily slowed and he breathed out a long breath. He placed a hand on hers and she slowly withdrew, walking away as if nothing had happened.

The group eventually made it to the meeting area, a small stream where Marlow kneeled down to fill his canteen. Mason sat by Slipko on a log, carefully examining her camera. James passed her once, slightly brushing his fingertips on her shoulder. She couldn't help the small smile that crept over her lips. A silent thank you.

Slipko noticed her smile and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head in a joking manner. He looked over at where James was standing by the creek.

"Their flare was only two clicks away, they should be here soon."

"Unless they were eaten by something that's bigger than us," Mason muttered to herself.

There was a lot of creaking suddenly from the forest behind them, and Slipko jumped up with a smile on his face. A chorus of, "Hey Slipko" and more filled the air as he jumped up and ran over to his friends. They embraced and Mason smiled wider. He sure had missed them.

Randa came over and shook Brooks hand in a greeting, Packard and James did the same thing.

"What's the count?"

"About 13," Packard answered, "That's all I got."

"We lost one too." James looked grim.

Marlow stood and walked over to Packard, "Good to see you fellas."

"Who the hell is this?"

"Picked up a hitchhiker," James told him.

"Lieutenant Hank Marlow of the 45th pursuit squadron of the 15th." He grinned.

Packard looked stunned, "You've been here since world war two?"

"Yes sir," Marlow answered, "I miss the parade?"

"I'll be damned."

"We're gonna get him home sir," James told Packard, "We follow this river we'll get back to the boat and make it to the north shore in time."

"That sounds good," Packard adjusted his gloves, "But we're not leaving yet. Still got a man out there Conrad."

"Wait a second you've got someone out there?"

"Chaplin. He's with the downed C-Stallion just west of here."

"West!?" Marlow cried, "We can't go west! That's where those skull things live. We have an old saying here: East is best west is worse. That's why we say it! You know south-west...we can talk about that, but-you're gonna need a lot more guns if we go west."

Mason stood up, "Guys. I think we should listen to Marlow. This is crazy."

James looked lost in thought.

"Hey," Packard told him, "Your job is finding lost men, right?"

James debated, "Alright sir." Mason sighed. "But if we reach that position and he's not there we don't send out a search party. We come back to the boat. In twenty-four hours we need to be on the other side of this island."

"Roger that," Packard told him, "Hear you loud and clear. Move out in ten."

Marlow started talking to the soldiers, "You are a good group of boys. We're all gonna die together out here, you know that? You're a good group of boys to die with."

James walked past where Mason was sitting on the log once again. "You going to tell me this is a bad idea?"

Mason didn't look up from her camera, "This is a bad idea."