Our Lady of Perdition

The Fifth Circle - Ira

At last, I heard waves. They crashed in the distance, far enough away that I couldn't smell the spray over the scent of jungle wood. They sounded large, as if a storm loomed near enough to billow the waves high. The coming night made the animals subside into quiet while new predators likely stalked. 

"We're almost there," I said. "I don't think we'll be able to make it back to where we landed tonight, but we can at least sleep near the water and know how to get there in the morning." 

Bugs agreed and hurried behind me. "I hope none of this crazy stuff keeps happening. Maybe Mary just wanted us to turn around, not chase her." 

"Like I said from the very beginning," I prodded. 

"No, you said she wasn't a divine apparition. There's a lot of difference between not believing in Mary's help and just being wrong about what she's saying." His boots stomped heavily on the ground cover, cracking and shuffling in the leaves. 

At last, the shimmering white of beach sand poked through the leaf cover. I couldn't help but run faster, what with hope of escape just in reach. Bugs hurried just behind me, and we exited onto the open shore. I stretched and felt glad just for being here, no longer upset about abandonment on a desert island - 

"Get down, man!" cried a deep, husky voice. 

Something - perhaps someone - rammed into my side, bringing me down. I panicked for a moment, my breath knocked out, but then regained my air only to realize I was pinned. To my surprise, Bugs came down just next to me, also under this bear of a man's grip. 

"What the fuck you doing?!" Bugs cried out. He tried to turn and push the man off, but if his neck was as tightly crushed as mine, he'd not be getting anywhere soon. 

"Sh," the voice ordered. "The Huns'll catch you." 

"Cazzo," Bugs cursed, "We're fighting the other front now? Jeez Louise." 

The man pushed harder into the sand til I thought I might choke. "Be quiet, dammit! What good is a gun or a knife if I don't have men to wield them? The Germans are coming, and we've got to hold them off." He released the bear-hold on our necks. "Do I have your loyalty, soldiers?" 

"Sure," Bugs answered. "Ain't like I've had a choice since I got back from Spain, have I?"

"You never have a choice when defending Liberty." He grinned maniacally as he stood, his teeth shining in the ever-growing darkness. He pulled out a knife, something jagged and vicious, and jerked his head to the side. "Come on - the trenches are this way." 

I looked to Bugs, but his face in the twilight made it difficult to discern what he thought. 

"Should we follow?" I asked. 

"I guess. He looks like he means business, and I sure don't want to die here at the hands of a madman." 

So we went, following the sandy footsteps of our guide. 

Eventually, up against the tree line, I saw a shallow trench - something closer to a foxhole, really. The vicious man crawled on his stomach into the trench and indicated for us to follow his lead. Bugs bent in front of me, and I got on my stomach soon after to creep through the hole. 

Eventually, the sand changed into a foul-smelling mud, like something someone had pissed in long ago when there was no other option. I could smell athletes foot, lice, disease, horrible things wafting up from the floor. Eventually the trench deepened, and the man in front of us stood to a crouch, then finally upright. 

"Agh!" Bugs jumped at something, pressing himself up to the wall. 

When I laid eyes on the skeleton in the trench, its khakis still on, a doughboy helmet on its head, an unlit cigarette in its aging teeth, I felt a trembling of fear. I stammered, then said, "You want that cig, Bugs?"