Hostile Fire

The setting sun bears down us like a radiation cloud. Whatever wildlife there is left takes cover in the scarred terrain. Ninety-eight days until I'm back in Minnesota.

Rodriguez comes out from behind the old outpost still pulling up his zipper. Puffs of dust billow up from his boots. I turn my head and spit on the parched ground.

"You jerking off back there, desert queen?"

"It'll cost you to find out." Rodriguez rests his M16 against the wall while he adjusts his helmet. "Did I miss all the fun?"

"Missed a whole lot of nothing. Same as the last time you took a piss."

"You should work on your hydration, Woods. I'm very concerned about your unsatisfactory urine production."

He chucks his canteen at me and I catch it like a football.

"Oh, you're concerned, are you? Do you have any thoughts on my menstrual cycle that you'd like to share?"

"Blech. I don't want to talk about your period."

"Aw. Soldier who's scared of blood. That's precious."

"It's not the blood, it's where it's coming from. Fucking terrifying. Give me an IED any day."

"You are such a pig."

"Oink, oink, baby."

"Alright, A.C. Slater. Simmer down." I take a swig, wipe the rim, and toss the canteen back to Rodriguez. "See, this is why we're a team. I can't fully trust someone who doesn't understand the dangers of caffeine pills. It could be a matter of life or death."

"Really? I assumed it was because it's easier to shit on the queers if we're together."

"My answer is much less of a bummer."

"That's why we're stuck out here at the checkpoint-to-nowhere with our thumbs up our asses.""Don't bitch. This is my third tour. I'm perfectly happy working on my tan."

"Third? Fucking hell. I'm not sure my marriage can survive one."

"Yeah, well. That's the great thing about single life. No one to let down."

"Garrett's getting pretty used to that by now."

"Do you think he's screwing around on you?"

"We have an understanding. But I think he's getting bored."

"Fuck, man."

"Yeah." Rodriguez stops. "There's something behind the ridge. One klick. Maybe less."

"What did you see?"

"Just movement."

"Let's get to cover."

Rodriguez and I train our guns on the rocky crags and dash inside the small concrete building. We take our positions at the window opening.

"See anything?"

"No," he says. "But I still think someone's out there."

We crouch down, tense and alert. The dry brush rustles in the wind. I see a flash of gray.

"Something is out here."

"What?"

"Don't know. But it's moving."

"How many?"

"Fuck if I know. I can't tell if it's a person. Hold your fire."

I hear the unmistakable thwunk of an RPG firing and the whizz of the projectile cutting through the air.

"Get down!"

Rodriguez hits the floor as dirt and rock and chunks of concrete rain over us. My ears are ringing. We lock eyes grimly.

"Call it in," I bark.

I stand next to the window with my back pressed against the wall while Rodriguez requests backup. I cautiously peek out but the particulate matter clouds my view.

Another explosion rocks the building. The force of the blast throws my body halfway across the room. Everything goes black.

"Tessa! Tessa! Wake up!"

My eyelids flutter open. Everything is spinning. Rodriguez is kneeling over me. He's holding my arms and shaking me, hard. I sit up and cough.

"Am I dead?"

"Not yet." He sits next to me with a weary groan. "I thought I was gonna be dragging your unconscious ass out to the truck tomorrow."

"Truck?"

"We're getting extracted at 0400. Base is low on transport, and a pile of rubble in the middle of nowhere isn't worth defending."

"Which makes me wonder why this is happening in the first place."

"That's above our paygrade." Rodriguez shines a light into my eyes and checks my pupils. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a bus. But I'm okay. Just need a couple minutes to get my bearings."

"You ready for the slumber party from hell?"

"Bring it."

We spend most of the night in total silence, intently monitoring the landscape. But the explosions start again. They always do. Over and over, right outside the walls, seemingly from all sides. We're reduced to running in circles to avoid debris.

A large portion of the ceiling breaks off with a sickening crack. Rodriguez jumps on me and rolls our bodies out of the way. His weight is heavy like wet sand. His helmet is missing, and his dark hair is streaked with dust.

Rodriguez kisses me passionately while the bombs go off around us. I'm stunned at first, then I kiss him back. He puts his hand behind my ear.

"Last night alive," he says. "Wanna fuck?"

"What the hell."

I grab him by the back of the neck and grind my crotch against his erection. He mashes his hand against my crotch, and I tightly cross my legs on top of it. I grasp the shape of his cock through the heavy fabric. We rub against each other desperately. Another explosion. The ground trembles and shakes. We fumble with our pants and shove them down our thighs.

"I always forget how weird penises are."

"Have you seen one before?"

"Once, in high school. What about you?"

"I've got a gold star, baby. Well. Had."

I spit on my hand and massage it onto my vagina. Rodriguez shoves himself inside me. I gasp and hold him tight. He plants his palms on the concrete floor and fucks me hard. I cover the back of his head with my forearms to protect him from shrapnel.

My helmet bangs against the ground, and there's a sharp pain in my ear from the cacophony outside. I put my hand on his chest. He's thick and blocky from his body armor. We kiss again, and this time there's something mournful about it.

The ceiling collapses and crumbles to the floor in the next room. The sky is devoid of stars. A section of wall crashes down in a monstrous plume of white dust.

I hold Emilio's face in my hands. Pulsing heat shoots and radiates through my body. I clench my teeth. He buries his head in my neck and shouts something indiscernible when he cums.

I slowly lower my limbs. The explosions have stopped. It's so still you can hear the insects chirp. I wince awkwardly as his semen oozes out of me.

"It's quiet." Rodriguez pulls up his pants. "Why the fuck is it quiet."

"Don't know." I check my watch. "Two hours to pick-up. You think we're getting out?"

"I don't know. This doesn't feel right."

"Doesn't feel right to me either."

We retake our positions. There's a small fire off in the distance. I take a deep breath and ready myself. Rodriguez grins at me.

"Buck up, buttercup," he says. "It's a good day to die."