"Alfenwehr made animals out of us all in the dark and cold

but Aine had made an animal of me long before that.

And now she had come to reclaim her pet."

Chapter Six

2/19th Special Weapons Group

Restricted Area, Western Germany

Winter-January, 1986

Day 10 of Repairs

Day 2 of the Second Incident

Evening

Nancy walked beside me as we moved down the stairs to the Ready Room, the large room in between the Arm's Room and the Supply Room. On the same wall as the Arm's Room was the NBC Room and the far wall was the Secure Items storage. Set up in the room were the three garbage cans used to wash dishes. Pvt Bellings and Pvt Martins were accepting the trays and I could tell by their expressions that they had hoped that they wouldn't have to do any extra duty, since the last LT had been more interested in getting in Pv2 Allsbury's panties than actually doing anything he was supposed to; that is, beyond yelling at us that he was gonna teach us the "right way" to do shit. I didn't hold being on extra-duty against them - hell, I'd gotten an Article-15 and a week or two of extra-duty more than once - I just didn't like Bellings all that much. The first day he was in the unit he'd heard the music in my room, came in, grabbed a beer, and sat down like he'd been in the unit for months. He'd kept that sense of entitlement the whole time, which just made me naturally dislike him.

I handed my tray and silverware to Bellings, who glared at me. Martins grinned at me, then checked my name off on the clipboard sitting on the table. I noticed the three names that were missing the checkmark.

Marshden, Aine and Bomber.

shit

"Come on, hurry," I said, turning away from the two soldiers on extra-duty and heading for the stairwell.

"Where are we going? Ant, slow down," Nancy said in the stairwell.

"Hurry up," I snapped at her, rounding the mid-floor landing between the first and second floor. I had a bad feeling about it. I was pretty sure what I'd find when I got to our room. I about busted my ass exiting the stairwell and trying to make the corner to head to our room, my boots slipping on the thin rime of ice on the wax.

The door was locked, taking a few extra seconds to quietly unlock it and push it open. I made a motion at Nancy to be quiet as the door slowly swung open, and exactly what I was worried about appeared in front of us.

Aine was on her knees in a chair, leaning over the back,  her hair falling over her face. A flowerprint dress was thrown up over her back, exposing her dimpled little bare butt. Bomber was behind her, trying to stick it in her while Aine moved her butt around and giggled. She didn't have on shoes or socks, just a light cotton dress that was almost see through.

"You take Bomber," I hissed at Nancy, then took five long steps to get to Aine.

She had time to realize I was there and start to look when I grabbed her by the hair and slung her into the short hallway of the room, Nancy hopping to avoid the smaller woman as she crumpled on the floor and slid on the waxed tile to thump against the closed door.

"Get the fuck out, Aine," I snarled. Behind me, I heard Bomber protest and Nancy say something as she moved past me.

"Why, Aodán, you don't want me in here?" Aine asked, coming to her feet in a smooth rippling motion that seemed more like silk being lifted up than any human had a right to.

"Get out," I said again, reaching past her to open the door.

"Goddammit, get out of my way, Nagle," Bomber yelled behind me.

"Come on, Aodán, don't be like that," Aine said, and hearing my childhood name coming from her lips made goosebumps raise on my skin. The little lizard hissed in cold fury at the small, petite woman in front of me.

Her large eyes opened wide in shock when I stepped into her, putting my hand between her breasts and pushing, forcing her to backpedal or fall. I stayed with her out the door and into Hammerhead Hall. She didn't go straight across, but angled slightly so her butt hit the cinderblock wall. She moaned as I pressed her against the wall. The lizard urged me to put on the pressure, crush her sternum and drive bone shards into her heart, leave her dead and pale in the hallway.

When she raised a hand to touch my face I pulled my hand from her chest. With a snarl, I pushed her hand away by sweeping her forearm away with my own. A flicker of anger moved through the depths of those too large green eyes. It was quickly replaced by fear when I drove my fist into the cinderblock beside her head hard enough for her to hear my knuckles crunch; a lock of her hair got caught between my knuckles and the painted cinderblock next to her ear.

"Stay. Out. Of. Here," I snarled, leaning forward.

She gave a low moan, licking her lips, and the smell of apple blossoms grew thick. She tried to touch my face again and I swept aside her arm again with the same move, a hand to hand move pounded into me during Basic Training combatives training. Her eyes were glowing like molten jade and she started to give another low moan.

That turned into a squawk of anger when I grabbed her by the front of her dress and physically threw her down the hallway. I planted my boots and put my hips in it as I twisted, throwing her savagely. She bounced off the right hand wall but caught her balance and came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. The front of her dress was torn open, revealing her small perfect breasts, topped with fiery red nipples.

The lizard hissed at me to step forward and take my fists and boots to her. To punish her, take out the sudden flaring rage of everything she had done to me by pounding her until she was nothing but mangled meat and shattered bone.

"You have grown, little Aodán." She smiled, pulling the bloody lock of hair around to in front of her face. I was snarling, my face twisted, and the heat in her eyes told me that she misunderstood what she was seeing. She was still seeing the boy she'd wrapped around her finger and enslaved. She looked at the shining blood on the lock of hair, then locked eyes with me as that pointed little tongue, too long and feline for such a small mouth, extended from her mouth to lap daintily at the blood left behind when my knuckles had torn. With each lap at the hair, she took another step forward back toward me.

Before she could say anything, I stepped into the room and slammed the door in her face. I turned around to see how Nancy was handling Bomber, my knuckles throbbing.

She had her hands on either side of his face, staring into his eyes and speaking fast, calling out his name, telling him to calm down, asking him to relax. He looked at me and flushed, his grip changing to push her away.

I was shaking, the close proximity with Aine, hearing my childhood name from her lips again, the smell of her, the sight of her petite body that was both familiar and new again, and adrenaline from the lizard kicking in the 'kill' button.

"Enjoy yourselves, I'm gonna take a shower," I told them, locking the door and turning to go into the bathroom. I needed to clear my head of the smell of apple blossoms, the hot coppery smell of blood that she'd faintly had around her since she was 13, and that wild feral smell that Aine seemed to have when I got close enough to her. I looked at my fingers in the light, noticing that my middle finger seemed twisted slightly. Grabbing it tightly and ignoring the pain I yanked it, feeling it snap back into place more than hearing the pop. Then I rinsed off my knuckles, checking for anything worse than just torn skin. I stared at the ugly guy in the mirror for a moment, then went back to picking the torn skin off my knuckles, keeping my mind blank and trying not to think of Aine.

I'd been more angry than I'd thought, and hit harder than I'd meant to. The little lizard was still muttering to itself, and because of that I had the adrenaline shakes as I turned on the shower, the hot water arriving almost immediately and filling the small bathroom with steam.

It only took a few moments before my uniform was folded up in the sink and I was sitting in the shower with the bottle of Wild Turkey we kept in the bathroom closet. I had managed to get my cousins the fuck off the mountain and now I was stuck up here by myself with Aine. I told myself the diamond cutter hardon I had was from what I knew Nancy was doing with Bomber, but I could still smell the apple blossoms and see Aine's breasts in my mind.

The cigarette smoke from the Marlboro I'd lit before getting into the shower melded with the steam, and the nicotine helped calm the shakes and the nausea that was twisting my stomach. My head was throbbing, and I was suddenly aware I had about a second to get to the toilet.

Everything came up in a rush. My dinner, the Wild Turkey, and a lot of bile. My head swam and I bit back a moan of agony when the heaves paused for a moment. Before I could stop myself I began dry heaving, my vision tunneling.

Once I was done I tossed the cigarette butt in the toilet, used some damp tissue to pick up the ashes, and flushed both down. A long swig off the Wild Turkey bottle settled my stomach, and another cigarette help calm the shakes. Ignoring the white dancing sparkles in my vision, I climbed back into the shower and sat on the floor of the shower shaking, sheltering the precious cigarette with my body as the hot water pounded against my tense back muscles.

Despite the way my head felt, the vomiting, or the sparkles in my vision, Mr. Happy still insisted on hanging around.

Once my head started to clear, after the cigarette, I drank in the steam and hot water and debated how much I could tell them. How far I could go without breaking one of the codes of silence that seemed to hem in my life? Could I tell them about Aine and risk my own cousins coming after me, or keep them in the dark from the very real danger the little bitch represented?

There wasn't a choice. I couldn't tell them. What if they didn't believe me, or worse yet, if Aine took them from me just because she could?

Curled up in the shower, holding the Wild Turkey bottle, I felt more alone than I had in years.

...promise me, Aodán, promise me you'll never tell what happened to us...

The door clicked and I could hear clothing rustle. It wouldn't be Bomber coming in to share a hot shower with me, so I wasn't exactly surprised when Nancy's long and muscular leg preceded the rest of her into the shower. She stood in front of me for a long moment, soaking her hair, and I watched the way the water poured down her body, enjoying the view until she sat down across from me, twining her legs with mine so we both fit, and wordlessly held her hand out for the bottle. I stayed silent, waiting for her to break the silence, watching her drink the bourbon.

"Happy to see me?" she asked when she was done drinking. Before I could answer she leaned forward and took me in one of her warm hands. "That's nice. Stand up for me, will you Ant?" I nodded and stood up, taking the bottle when she handed it to me before kneeling in front of me. Finally she wiped her mouth, flexed her jaw a few times, then handed the bottle back.

"OK, what was all that about?" Nancy asked me, leaning forward slightly so the water would hit the back of her head and run down her back.

"Aine," I said.

"Bomber or what I just took care of?"

"Yes. No. Shit, both." I sat back down, wrapping my legs in her and taking another long pull off the bottle. "It's just... Aine."

She shook her head, leaning forward slightly so the water didn't hit her directly in the face. "No shit it was Aine. What's the deal with her?"

"Aine's dangerous," I told her. "Trust me on this, that wasn't sex Bomber was getting wrapped up in."

Nancy looked at me oddly for a second, then her eyes widened. "You're serious."

Another long drink off the bottle and I stared at her. "Ayup."

She lifted her head and stared at me, that thin line between her eyebrows appearing. "What was it then?"

"She was going to use it to drive a wedge between Bomber and us," I told her, skirting around what it really was.

That Aine was stealing his soul.

The bathroom door opened and I heard the toilet lid drop down before weight settled on it. I knew without looking it was Bomber.

"Ant..." he started as Nagle stuck her arm out of the shower and held the bottle out to him.

"Don't bother," I cut him off. "Humor me for a minute, will you, buddy?"

I could hear the liquid gurgle in the bottle and saw Nagle watching him. She held her hand out and brought back the bottle after he told me to go ahead. I nodded to Nancy and continued.

"Describe how what we saw happened, John, just tell us how you ended up trying to stick your dick in Aine," I told him. I heard Bomber heave a sigh.

"OK, Nancy and me figured till dinner we'd inventory our rucks and yours since we know our room was tossed. When dinner rolled around Nancy said she was gonna eat, then take a tray to you. I stayed back and finished, then went and got a tray for myself," Bomber said. I took a swig on the bottle and handed it to Nancy as he continued. "McCullen was in the hallway and asked me where the two of you were. I told her you two were probably eating in the office and she left. I headed down to get a tray, and brought it upstairs."

He sighed and Nancy handed back the bottle to him. I heard the bourbon gurgle again before he continued. "I'd finished eating, went over to the dresser and set it down so I could grab my BDU top and head down to hand my tray over. I figured I'd come up to the office and bring you something to drink. When I turned around, Aine was standing there smiling at me."

"And then?" Nancy asked when he was silent for a moment. I heard the bourbon gurgle again.

"I went to ask her what she was doing in here, but when I opened my mouth she put her hand on my face and..." His voice trailed off, and I could hear his confusion in the silence.

I knew what it was like, her touch. The way it ignited the blood, wiped away all thought, and bent you to her will. I knew that the moment she touched him, he was lost.

"And what, John?" Nancy asked gently. "Then what happened?"

"I... I don't know. All I remember is the smell of apple blossoms. The next thing I knew you were kissing me, Nancy, then I heard the door slam and my head started to clear up," John said slowly.

Nancy looked at me under the water and I nodded. "Yeah, that's kind of her deal," I told her.

She took another swig off the bourbon and sat there, tapping her fingers on the bottle as she thought. The two rings she wore on her left ring finger clinked steadily against the bottle, the tone of the sound changing as she took another drink. I leaned against the wall and moved the curtain far enough to see Bomber. He was sitting on the toilet staring at the wall.

"Hey, John," I said. He looked over at me and I pointed at the cigarette he held. "Gimme like two minutes and I'll join you for one of those." I waved at the small bathroom. "I don't think you want my dong flapping in your face while I get some clothing on."

"I'll join you guys in a minute, I need to think about a few things," Nancy said, still pinging her rings on the side of the bottle as John got up and left the bathroom. She stayed silent as I got out, dried off real quick, and pulled on my boxers.

"Kiss me, will you, Ant?" Nancy asked when I reached for the door handle. I nodded, squatted down, and gave her an open mouthed kiss. I suppose it should have bothered me that she'd just finished blowing both of us, but she was drinking hard alcohol and, well, she was Nancy.

...Ant, I love you...

...I'm coming, baby, hold on...

...I'm dying, aren't I?...

She'd held my hand while I'd done a real good job of dying.

Bomber was sitting in the chair in his PT's, clinking his Senior Class of 82 ring on a bottle of Asbach that he'd probably pulled out of his sock drawer, still looking moody and when he looked at me he gave a slight flush. I just shrugged, grinned at him, and pulled open my civvy wall locker, getting dressed in Levi 501's, a Ratt T-shirt, and a white and red flannel shirt I'd ordered from Sears. I finished dressing, put my laundry in my laundry bag I kept in the locker so the one at the end of the bed was inspection tight, and stood there looking at myself in the mirror.

The man who stared back at me had nothing in common with the kid who had gone to J-Max and spent most of the time in solitaire. Having been given the choice between sitting in solitaire or being bailed out, where Aine was waiting, I'd chosen long hours that crawled into days into weeks by myself.

The kid I had been had a slightly pudgy face, while the man I'd become had a face that was lean and harsh. The kid had barely started shaving, the man needed a shave. The kid had been blond, the man was a red-head with grey at the temples. Stress grey. The boy's nose had been straight, the man's slightly crooked. The boy's face only had a few scars, the man's had quite a few. The child had been normal looking, the man was ugly, with a slightly twisted mouth, and shadowed pits with green eyes that stared through things.

The kid was gone. The kid that had 'gone steady' with Aine. Gone. Basic, AIT, the barracks fire, Atlas, the ever-present fear, the death, had all stripped away the child.

And left the man.

Aine didn't care. Aine wanted the boy she felt that she had already claimed, and she'd try to take the man.

With a snarl, I slammed the locker closed to put the reflection away.

"You OK?" Bomber asked.

"Fine," I said, probably harsher than I meant. I tried to smile at him and hopped up on the dresser. I grabbed the pack of Marlboros off the dresser, and lit two, handing one to Bomber while he was collecting his thoughts. Finally he looked up at me through a cloud of cigarette smoke that the trickle of breeze leaking through the cover over our broken windows gently swirled.

"You grew up with her?" Bomber asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I nodded. "Was she always that creepy?" I nodded again. "And now she's here, on this mountain, with us?" He passed me the bottle and then rubbed his face with his hands. "Shit, can things get any worse?"

The little lizard in the back of my brain hissed at him for saying that.

"Goddamn blizzard has our newbies stuck here, we've got that sociopath LT James here, fucking Tandy lurking around out there, and something doesn't feel... doesn't feel right, brother," Bomber said.

I nodded, and the wind hammered on the plywood over our windows, the slight breeze picking up strength and dissipating the cigarette smoke as I took a long drink of the warm brandy. It was smoother than Wild Turkey, and felt like liquid silk going down as I thought over what he'd said.

"You gonna say anything, Ant?"

I shrugged.

"It's Aine, isn't it?" He took another swig off the bottle. "What the fuck happened to you, brother? What the fuck did she do to you?"

I stayed silent.

...please don't tell...

"You know the new guys didn't go back to Graf, right?" he tried.

"So my cousins are stuck here with us?" I asked, and John nodded.

"The Duty Driver took one look at the visibility out there and refused to go." He chuckled as I handed the bottle back. "I thought the LT would spin the fuck out, instead he went out, stood on the bricks of the entryway, and came back in and commended the Duty Driver on his 'willingness to let a superior officer know when their intelligence was out of date and might put people at risk of injury or death'." He shrugged while he chuckled again. "He put Aine, those two new guys, and your cousins to work inventorying the NBC Room under Chantlier. I checked on them twice, and Chantlier was pretty much just telling them how this shithole runs after making sure that they got their issue, sitting in the NBC Room swilling down cheap beer and bitching to five very confused privates about how much he hates this place, why the Army hates him personally, and why none of us will get off this mountain alive."

Chantlier and Cobb were the two NBC Room NCO's, with my older brother William being their assistant. Cobb had been put there to give him a place while he went through alcohol rehabilitation, being pulled off of SGT Wrenlow's crew and being put in the NBC Room so he'd have a place on the TO&E and keep him current. Chantlier had been the NBC Room NCO in his previous unit and when he'd arrived in 2/19th in July, the current CO had put him in charge of the NBC Room and demoted my older brother to his assistant.

For the most part, Chantlier just handled inventory and maintenance on the unit's rather extensive NBC protective and detection gear, but one of his duties giving out issue to people who'd just shown up. Issue that was supposed to be handed out as soon as someone arrived.

Issue consisted of the gas mask, the atropine and 2-PAM chloride injector sets, the test strips, the detector tape, two chemical protective suits foil packaged, one chemical protection suit to wear for practice, and issued technical manuals on how to operate detector equipment since we'd gotten new equipment that AIT didn't cover - hell, that had been shipped straight from DARPA and we still had to fill out evaluation reports on. Gas masks had to fitted individually and filters put into them, the chemical protective suits had be issued out according to size and Chantlier always had people try on the training suits. Once the foil seal was broken on the suit packaging the suit became inert and worthless in about 5 days, so he used already inert suits to measure people out since it wasn't uncommon for someone to wear one size BDU's and a different size of chemical gear.

"Hell, you know that he doesn't need to inventory the fucking NBC Room, Chantlier keeps that place dress right fucking dress," Bomber said. His mood was improving, his natural Texas humor overriding even our bad situation. "Chantlier was telling them about the time fucking Sergeant Hill handed in his weapon and the fucker went off."

"How did Aine react to all of it?" I asked, grinning at the memory of Clance about shitting himself when the bullet had ricocheted around the room. The memory of Clance reaching through the bars at the turn-in window, trying to grab Sergeant Hill made me smile. I heard the shower shut off and wondered for a split second was Nancy was doing.

The lizard obliged me by showing me a memory of Nancy naked, drying off slowly, the brown towel against the perma-tanned skin and her brown eyes mischievous.

Bomber just shrugged. "She was just watching everything, biting her lower lip, and the light in her eyes looking like the sun shining through a hole in her head. She had one hand on her chest and was breathing all excited like."

Nancy's image in my mind vanished, replaced by Aine laying in the summer grass naked and touching herself, and the lizard hissed in hate, slapping his hand on the button and shutting off the image in my mind.

He replaced it with PFC Westlin holding her stomach and crying as I bent over her to shield her from the rotorwash as the Blackhawk landed at the lower helipad. Every agonizing detail was there. The way the tears were dirty, how she'd scraped her cheek going face-first onto the pad at Bunker-42, the way her blue eyes were open and staring at the sky as breathed rapidly. The fact her left rank was slightly crooked, and the bottom of her right rank had worn until the brass was peeking through. Every detail of the crew medic I'd failed to save.

The image of the dead woman washed away Aine.

I silently thanked the little guy.

The brandy gurgled as he took another long pull off the bottle. I glanced over as soon as I heard bare feet on tile and was greeted with the sight of Nagle, dried off with her hair wrapped up in a towel, walking naked from the bathroom and into the frontroom. Bomber gave a muffled laugh as I just quit talking, knowing full well that I'd completely stopped paying attention to him or anything else the second I'd spotted Nancy.

Her walk was demanding, holding my attention, her hips swaying as she put one long leg in front of the other, the firm muscles built up running by long miles flexing under her permanent tan. She had her breasts thrust out almost aggressively, as if daring someone to mention the stretch marks, the slight sagging gravity always gave larger ones like hers, or the puckered scar on the upper slope of her right breast from where a maniac had rammed a knife through her breast. Her brown eyes were soft as she looked at me, the scar down the side of her face a soft pink line from her hairline to her jawline. Even she'd dried off, steam still rose off of her damp skin in the cool air as she crossed the room.

The bedframe creaked as she pulled herself into the bed we both shared, climbing quickly and easily up the end of the bunkbeds, which gave us all kinds of interesting views, one of which she held, looking over her shoulder and giving us a wicked look as she wiggled her butt before she climbed over the edge of the bed and wiggled under the quilt.

"Damn, I hate this place, it's freezing even under the blankets," she said, her teeth chattering. She yawned and burrowed a little deeper. "I'm friggen beat." She rolled onto her stomach and peeked out of the blankets, only her eyes and nose visible. "Get some sleep, you two, tomorrow's a work day."

Bomber held up the bottle and winked at her before passing it to me. I saluted her before taking a long pull off of it.

"Want one of us under those cold blankets with you?" Bomber asked.

She laughed, the warmth in her tone robbing it of any sting. "No thanks. I want to take care of myself." She lifted her head enough so we could see her smile. "Women have been pleasing themselves for thousands of years, it's one of our secrets." The lightbulb dimmed slightly and the room filled with shadows so that only her smile was visible thanks to trick of the light and shadow. "I learned that researching my collection."

Her collection. A nice way to put her collection of fertility idols and other paraphanelia from all over the world regarding sexuality. She had little balls with bells in them that women in China had used to tighten up their vaginal muscles, stone dildos used to deflower virgins from God knew where, fat big breasted idols, and tons more. She had all of them in little boxes with velvet in them, built to hold and cradle the object. All of the boxes had stamped brass labels, and despite the teasing we'd given her, she'd never actually utilized any of the items the way they'd been intended. She had more modern ones, bought off post from German shops. The newer stuff lived in her sock drawer, and two had migrated to Bomber's and my room. The older stuff, from all over the world, were still locked in a drawer in her room.

She did more than collect them. She researched the society that the objects had come from with avid interest. Who they were as a people, why they had designed the objects, what had happened to them, and their political and social traits. Every time she acquired a new one (twice being investigated by CID after getting a particular piece), Bomber and I would have to put up with her lecturing us about everything involved with the piece.

"Enjoy yourself." I smiled, saluting her with my glass again.

The smile vanished, and I turned back to Bomber.

"To another night in the barracks, brother," I said, saluting him too.

"Let's get drunk," Bomber answered, saluting me back.

Sure, there was work the next day, but right then, there was drinking to be done and things to forget.

The alcohol tasted good.

The barracks were cold.

Voices shouted in German, tap shoes ran by, and boots thudded above us.

Another night in 2/19th.

But not a bad one.

Bomber and I were silent for a moment, listening to the wind outside, the creaking sounds that a cinderblock building shouldn't make, Nancy's quiet private sounds, and the audible proof that the barracks hated us.

"Don't pull away, Stillwater," Bomber said softly.

I looked at him, took a pull off the bottle, and shook my head.

"I'm serious," he said, holding out his hand. I handed him the bottle. "You're already shutting down, going back to the guy I met in Basic Training." He sighed, took a drink, then shook his head. "Your brother just says you're a quiet guy, but I know you better than that."

He was silent for a moment, then reached over and squeezed my knee. "Is it Aine?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"You two have history?"

"Yeah."

"It's more than just fucking, isn't it?" I nodded, he nodded and passed me the bottle. "Yeah, I figured that." We were silent for a long time. "You're afraid of her, aren't you?"

"More than you'd believe," I admitted. I pinched the bridge of my nose, reaching behind my glasses. "It's all wrapped up in our families, juvie, my father. It's just... it's just... it's just a fucking mess, John."

He squeezed my knee again. "I'm here, brother."

Nancy was snoring softly after a little bit, where we sat in companionable silence. When I went to the fridge I saw we were almost out of soda for our mixed drinks, and I really wanted to mix the Wild Turkey with Coke. My throat and sinuses still burned from heaving up all that bile.

"Grab the sock," I told him. He nodded, knowing which one I meant, and grabbed the sock full of quarters from the desk while I grabbed my fleece lined Levi jacket. I shrugged into it, then sat down on John's bed to pull on my jungle boots. When I was done John had pulled on his jacket, pretty much identical to mine, except the back of his had the Ride the Lightning album cover on the back to my The Trooper.

Both of us put our knives behind our backs before we left and locked the door behind us.

We were silent, moving down the hallway. When we went through the doors and into South Hammerhead Hall, we both could see Aine standing below the gutted emergency light in a pool of shadow. The lights above her for ten feet in either direction were out, but her white cotton flowerprint dress was luminous in the shadow, just like her alabaster skin.

She watched us pass, a tiny smirk on that little cupid's bow mouth. She gave a longing sigh after we passed.

"Creepy little bitch," Bomber grumbled when we went into the stairwell. The shrieks from above and below agreed with us. We headed down to the CQ Area.

Relief filled me when I saw that the CQ crew was still there.

That was something.

In the little alcove where the three soda machines and the two candy machines were located one of the new guys, Parker, was standing there trying to feed a dollar into the machine that would spit out Budweiser, Colt 45, or Coors in addition to Coke products.

"Fucking machine doesn't work," the new guy snarled.

"Because the little red light is lit saying it isn't hungry for dollar bills," Bomber told him in a cheery voice, leaning against the wall. "Try quarters."

Parker turned around and glared at Bomber, who just stared back while he dug in a pocket. We'd both found that expressions that might make people step back in other units were just normal "I hate you and everyone in existence" expressions everyone wore here.

"I don't have any quarters, dick," the guy said.

Bomber opened his hand to show the handful of quarters he'd been digging out. "You sure as shit don't now, 'cruit." He dropped the quarters back into his pocket.

"I'm not a 'cruit, douchebag. I was a fucking E-4 before I got sent here," Parker snarled.

"So fucking what, you're a fucking pee-vee-two now, buddy," I shot in.

"Shut the fuck up, nobody was talking to you, asshole," Parker told me.

"What the fuck is your problem, newbie?" Bomber asked. "Your asshole still sore from the big green dick?"

"Maybe you'd like a smack in the mouth?" the new guy asked one of us. He was a hair shorter than me, but wasn't as broad. My brain told me plain and simple I could take him even as drunk as I was, injuries and all. The lizard noted I had about twenty pounds and at least six inches of reach on him.

Bomber didn't say shit, just backhanded the guy, knocking him to the floor.

"Bitches get bitch slapped," Bomber said, standing over Parker.

"Get the fuck out," I told him. Parker got up, looking pissed now, but when I mock-lunged at him he scrambled out the door and I laughed. "Get the beer and pop," I told Bomber.

The pop machine obediently traded cans of soda for quarters, and 50 cents bought us cans of Bud to nurse on the way back to the room. Between the two of us we'd stuffed almost 2 cases of soda into our jackets, two in each pockets and the rest inside and cold as hell. We shivered as we headed back up to the room.

Aine was leaning against the wall, next to the stairwell, and she smiled at us as we went past.

I noticed she had bare feet.

"She's fucking mocking me," Bomber growled as we walked up the stairs. "Fucking mocking me for not shoving it in her, I just fucking know it."

"At ease that shit," I snapped, punching his shoulder. "She's fucking with your head and you're letting her."

He paused at the door, turning to look at me. "She does this a lot?"

"Yeah, it's kind of her thing," I admitted. "Let's go, I'm fucking freezing."

Bomber nodded and opened up the door. A woman started screaming above us, and we just ignored it. The lights were out in Near Hammerhead Hall, only the fluorescent light at the double doors in the middle on, the rest of the hallway completely dark.

"God, I hate it when it's like this," Bomber bitched, taking a long swig off his beer can right afterwards. I joined him, trying to get rid of my suddenly dry mouth.

"We ain't getting there standing here," I told him. He grunted and stepped into the hallway.

The fluorescent light above us snapped on with a sharp spiteful buzzing noise.

Both us swore and took two steps.

That's when the next light kicked on, a feeble yellow glow, and the one behind us at the stairwell gave a whining noise and shut off.

"What kind of shit is this?" Bomber asked when the cycle repeated at the third and then the fourth ones.

"I have no clue," I told him honestly. I was starting to sweat, and it had nothing to do with the weather. I was shivering from cold, or, at least, that's what I told myself.

"This place just looooves fucking with us," Bomber said as the lights kept turning on when we were under them and shutting off right when the next one turned on.

When the light over the gutted emergency light kicked on to reveal Aine leaning against the wall, under the light, with a lollipop in her mouth and a smile on her lips, we both jumped. I'll admit to almost screaming and instead just choking on my mouthful of Bud.

"Little Aodán, all grown up, and the brave Jonathon Bomber," Aine said softly, looking through her eyelashes at us. She pressed her tongue on the lollipop and smiled at us. "Busy, boys?" she asked after taking a long lick from the lollipop with that soft pink tongue of hers.

"Fuck off, Aine," I snapped.

She just laughed, and disappeared when the light above her shorted out.

"She's creepy, but goddamn does she make my dick hard," Bomber said, finishing off the can of beer and crumpling it in his fist. "This crap's like water."

"Yup to all three," I commented, pushing open the door to the far end of Hammerhead Hall.

There, under the emergency light, was Aine, smiling at us, still dressed in that thin flowerprint dress. I glanced down and noticed that she still wasn't wearing shoes, but at the same time the frost on the floor around her feet was unmarred.

"What the fuck?" Bomber said.

"She went downstairs and ran ahead of us, that's all," I said, heading toward her.

She just smiled and watched us walk up to the door of our room with a faint smirk dancing on her lips. She stayed silent as I unlocked the door and waved Bomber in.

Right before I went in, I glared at her. "Enough with the bullshit, Aine."

I slammed the door, and right before it shut I heard: "Sweet dreams, Nancy."

Rage boiled up, the lizard hissed, and I yanked open the door, stepping out in the hallway and raising my voice. "What the fuck did you just say?"

To an empty hallway.

There was no sign on Aine, and the lights were almost all out, just a few still on and two of those flickering. I looked both ways, then slowly backed up and closed the door.

"What?" Nancy grunted. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep, just checking on you," Bomber was saying as I walked into the main part of the room.

"Why?" Her voice was muzzy, she was drifting off again.

"We went to the soda machine," I offered.

"Soda. Right." Her voice trailed off into mumbling and I smiled at Bomber. We started unloading the soda from our jackets and putting it in the fridge.

"Man, she's a creepy little bitch," Bomber reiterated when we were done, had mixed up drinks, and were sitting back down.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Any idea what to do about her?" he asked. I opened my mouth. "Besides stabbing her." I closed my mouth and he chuckled. He made a face as the tap shoes ran by before continuing. "She fucked you up, didn't she?"

I ran my finger around the edge of the liter glass, listening to the faint tone of crystal for a moment before looking up and answering. "Yeah. Yeah, she did."

Bomber nodded, getting up to put ice in his glass before refilling his drink. "Tell me about it, brother." He turned and tossed me a can of Coke, which I caught and used to refresh my drink a little. He sat back down and waited quietly while I put my thoughts in order.

"I can't explain it, John," I told him after a little bit.

John didn't look upset, just nodded slowly. "Hell, Ant, I'm Texan, and you ain't gotta tell me that family comes first. Man don't have family, he ain't got nuttin," he told me. He shrugged, taking another hit off his drink. "And here you were like me and fig-gered that we'd run fur enough to get away from our families. Christ, if Aine found you here, maybe I didn't run far enough either." His accent, normally barely audible, was back and thick, letting me know he was seriously stressed.

That was new. I'd met his family, and couldn't imagine wanting to run away from what I'd seen.

"Why were you running?" I asked him. This time it was John's turn to be silent. The shadows loomed as the bulb dimmed far enough for our night-light to kick on. For a few seconds I thought he wasn't going to say anything, but it wasn't an awkward silence so I wasn't in too much of a hurry to break it.

Finally he spoke, startling me with both the sound and what he said.

"I'm in love with my cousin," he said. I stared at him and he gave a rueful chuckle. "I know, fucking cliché, right? I'm from Texas, I gotta be interested in my family first, right?"

"I know you better than that," I told him. He nodded and looked relieved.

"I met her at summer camp when we were ten. Then at the rodeos for awhile." He shook his head. "We had no goddamn clue we were related. I swear to God, Ant, we had no clue." He sighed and rubbed the side of his jaw, bringing out the sound of bristles. "Hell, I even introduced her to my parents, and they had no goddamn clue till we went to a rodeo in 1980. That's when her parents met my parents and I found out the whole goddamn thing."

He shook his head and made himself another drink. I just sat quietly and listened to him when he sat back down with a fresh drink. "Turns out that I had an uncle my father never talked about. See, my father volunteered for Korea, fought the whole goddamn war even though he'd made the point spread to go home, and when it was all over and he came home, he found out his brother had dodged the draft by running off to Mexico. So my granddad gave the family ranch to my dad and disinherited my uncle. My uncle asked for his share when the Old Man died, and my father refused him, since it was in the damn will that if my father gave his brother anything he'd instantly lose the ranch and everything else."

"That's a lot of goddamn land," I interjected. I'd been to the Bomber family ranch, and it was larger than some counties I'd been to. It encompassed an entire valley and the sides of the hills surrounding it. Where most farms and ranches were measured in square acres, the Bomber family ranch was measured in square miles. I'd asked, standing on the front porch after the twenty minute drive to the house from the gate, and found out that the Bomber family ranch was just a few thousand acres over a half-million, clocking in at a whopping eight hundred square miles or so. A mind boggling figure to me, but to the Bomber family, just part of life. I could see why his uncle would have been pissed off that he didn't get a share.

"Yeah. See, to inherit, you have to do time in the military, or they just slice off about five thousand acres off of the outland parts and give it you along with some cattle and horses." Bomber shrugged. "So this whole shit-storm cooks off because of Prudence and I, and it ended with her mother slapping me and walking away, accusing me of knowing the whole time." He rubbed the side of his jaw again, his expression brokenhearted.

"I loved her, Ant, I really did. It's a sick goddamn joke." He looked up and suddenly grinned. "So, when we were in AIT and they offered to give us our Zulu identifier and make us Special Weapons I jumped on it, thinking at least it would keep my mind off of her. Then when we got to Europe after that hellstorm we called AIT, when you told me where you were going, I just walked up to the dude at 21st Replacement right at Rhien-Mein, and they slapped me right in 2/19th before I'd even finished talking."

Normally you couldn't do that. Once you took an MOS you were shit out of luck if you didn't like it, but since our MOS had a minimum strength of 2,500 and when I joined it was sitting at only 135, they jumped on everyone like a starving wolf. Hell, the MOS was only sitting at 652 according to the last promotion point datasheet. There were whole units that had only a handful of NBC Warfare in them. When we'd landed in 2/19th there had been hardly anyone in the unit, they were still trying to reactivate, so someone requesting the antechamber of Hell known as 2/19th Special Weapons Group guaranteed that they'd be slapped right into the unit.

"And here we are," I finished for him.

He nodded and sighed. "I still dream about her, you know?" The laugh was bitter, self-mocking. "My dad told me stay away from her, thinking his brother was out to marry her off to me to get the ranch; her dad told her stay away from me because he wasn't going to let his brother steal his only child like my father supposedly stole the inheritance."

"And nobody asked the two of you," I said.

John nodded, taking a long drink off the glass that dropped the whiskey and coke below the rampant lion crest on the the mid-point. "She still writes me, Ant. Still loves me." His eyes looked haunted as he kept speaking. "When we were on leave to the ranch, that time we went to the bar and I vanished on you and Nancy till closing, her and I got a hotel room together." He paused for a moment, and I just sat in the dimness and let him talk. "I didn't wanna go back and git ya, and when you and Nancy stumbled out of the bar laughing, I hated tha two of ya."

"You could have left us, John. We would have just called your dad to get us," I told him gently.

"Yeah, and he woulda known right off where'n I was."

I shrugged and took a drink off my own glass. The ice cubes were holding up well, so it wasn't too watered down yet.

"Christ, isn't it a damn cliché? A Texas boy in love with his cousin," he said. "Hell, I was all busted up from having them rip into my guts, and when she whistled I came runnin' like a goddamn dog."

I grinned at him at that. "Now you know what it's like with Aine. Only I hate her with a burning passion, but she still gets me all twisted up inside."

His expression told me that he needed me to understand when he spoke. "So you know what it's like? Know how it is to have someone that you shouldn't be with but can't stop yourself?"

Chuckling, I pointed at Nancy and Bomber grinned. I shook my head. "Seriously, I let Aine stick her hand up my ass and use me as a puppet till I was fifteen, what makes you think I'm going to bust on you about your cousin?"

"Thanks, brother. It means a lot." He shook his head again. "What the hell are we going to do, Ant?"

I looked at my drink and an idea struck me. Looking up, I smiled at him.

"Easy. I know what to do." Bomber raised an eyebrow. "Drink till we go blind."

Bomber snickered and took a long pull off his drink.

We proved that with enough alcohol we could forget about Aine, Prudence, Tandy, everything.

Another night in 2/19th.

And even with Aine around, it wasn't a bad one.