Chapter 12:

Out of the Fire, Into the Frying Pan

Davies woke the next morning, stiff, hungry, thirsty, and already way too hot. He stood, stretched, and watched as Nathan broke up some poor dead shrub to rekindle their pathetic fire.

“Morning,” Nathan greeted.

Davies grunted. “Another fine day in the Army,” he groaned, then walked several yards and peed behind a dried out shrub—much of which he drank—despite its increasingly brownish pall and terrible taste.

Davies didn’t have to look at the rations. He knew what was left. “We have corned beef hash. It tastes like a dog’s ass, which still puts it a half notch above the hot dogs we had the other day,” Davies said as he zipped himself up. “What do you say we split it?”

Nathan continued snapping his twigs. “It’s all yours,” he said. “I’m not hungry.”

“Let’s split it later,” Davies said as he pulled open the pack. “Mind if I have the crackers?”

Nathan shook his head.

Davies pulled out the crackers and peanut butter and stuffed the rest of the meal back into his pack. With luck, they’d find civilization before he got that hungry. With luck, he’d go mad with heatstroke and die before he got that hungry. “Wanna split a warm beer with me?”

“It’s all yours,” Nathan said.

“Come on dude,” Davies began. “You think I want to drink a warm beer all by my self?”

With a shrug, Nathan opened the warm beer and took a long pull. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said as he passed the beer back to Davies. “I think we might be traveling in circles.”

Davies gave a curious look at his companion.

“I feel like we’ve been tacking to the left the entire time we’ve been walking,” Nathan explained. “In fact, yesterday when we woke up, we were headed west. Now we’re headed east.”

“We’re not traveling in circles,” Davies shook his head. “It’s a spiral—but I see why you’d get the two confused.”

“We’re walking in a spiral?”

“Yeah,” Davies confirmed.

Nathan shook his head. “Why?”

“I’m not very good with a map and compass,” Davies shrugged. “So to get to the center of the desert I drove like this,” he drew a spiral in the sand. “I drove nearly three hundred miles in a big sweeping circle so I could get the numbers on my GPS fairly close to the numbers in my orders.”

“You drove in a spiral around the entire desert?!” Nathan stared.

“Well, not the entire desert!” Davies guffawed. “That’d take days! I mean, the damn thing takes up most of Nevada,” he noted. “No, I just drove out about eighty miles and then turned in a big lazy loop when the numbers got too high or too low,” Davies shrugged. “How else would I use a GPS?” he asked.

“So we’ve been walking around in a huge spiral with a dwindling supply of food and hardly any water?” Nathan asked. “Why not just skip a couple outward spirals by cutting across, like this?” Nathan demonstrated by drawing a line through several rings of the spiral.

“I thought about that, but there’s the chance that we cut off the outside ring and wander right out into the open desert. If that happens, we get lost and die—and I wasn’t willing to risk that,” Davies stated.

Nathan stared at Davies for a long time, dumbfounded. Finally, he said, “Are we supposed to be heading east? Is that the direction of base?”

“I’m not even sure this is east,” Davies shrugged. “I’m just taking your word for it.”

Nathan glance up at the sky, completely astounded. The look of astonishment faded into a smile, and suddenly Nathan was laughing.

“I don’t know what you find funny about all this,” Davies noted. “I feel like we’re gonna die out here.”

“At least we’ll die on our feet,” Nathan said as he picked up the jug of water with maybe a cup left in it, and began on their path once more. He took several steps, turned to say,” Are you coming?” Then stopped dead in his tracks as he stared passed Davies.

Davies gaped and stared to the south, completely enraptured. Nathan turned and looked out over the desert. On the horizon were lights, low on the desert. The lights grew brighter and soon Nathan and Davies could make out a vehicle. It was a jeep, and behind it was another jeep—and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. Davies stopped. “Aw, fuck,” he said under his breath and dropped the meteor at his feet.

The vehicles approached and pulled up next to them. Soldiers poured out of the jeeps, weapons down, but ready. A thick man a good hand taller than either Davies or Nathan stepped out of the passenger side of the lead jeep. He was an angry looking brute, older, thicker than the others, and far more intimidating. The name tag on his shirt read, SMITH.

Davies stood at full attention, and although it was still cool and early in the day, sweat was beading on his forehead. Nathan stood relaxed, his balance to one side. Never again would he stand at attention.

“Cock-smoker! Do I look like a faggot?!” Smith asked Davies, nodding his head repeatedly for emphasis.

“A faggot, sir?” Davies asked. A smile crept at the edge of Davies’s face despite Smith’s dire seriousness—and the fact that this was an obvious setup.

“That’s what I asked, private,” Smith said, up to his ears in righteous indignation.

“No sir. I suppose you don’t look like a faggot at all, sir.”

“Well then, can I ask you why you’re trying to fuck me!?” Smith yelled as he jammed the brim of his hat into Davies’ nose.

Davies’s response was both stupid and brave, “One can never be sure, sir.”

Smith punched at the private’s face. Davies turned just in time, the blow landing heavily on his ear instead of his eye. The private first class dropped to the dirt.

Nathan perked up. He stood ready, his whole body going tense.

Smith noted the change in Nathan, the squinting of his eyes, the iron in his stance. The C.O. took two steps, holding a finger at Nathan, but saying nothing. Just as Nathan figured he’d have to defend himself, Smith reversed and went back after Davies. “Get up! Get up, you pussy!” Smith grabbed Davies and half dragged him to his feet.

Davies stood to attention, a bit wobbly on his feet.

Smith turned to the other soldiers. “Meiers, what do we got on this worm?”

One of the soldiers stepped forward a tall, strong, and dim-looking individual. “Sir?”

“This boy is in trouble,” Smith spelled it out. “Can you tell me why?”

“Charges, sir?” Meiers began. “Uh, insubordination, negligence resulting in the destruction of government property, and desertion is what you told us, sir!”

“Desertion?!” Davies exclaimed, turning on Meiers, “Insubordination, sure, destruction of government property—well, I can see why you think so—but desertion?! I’m not stupid, man!”

The smug grin returned to Smith. “Well, it looks like you might have yourself a little court martial, fuck rag!” He yelled, then turned on Nathan. “And who the fuck is this?! You found yourself a girlfriend, Davies? You know ladies aren’t allowed on base!”

Smith circled Nathan, eyeing him up and down. Nathan forced himself to relax, to stand as leisurely as possible. Yet, at the same time, he was happy to have Smith’s eyes on him instead of Davies. He didn’t want this monster at his friend again—then the thought made Nathan want to laugh! Friend! He honestly considered Davies a friend! The idea of having a friend again!

“Well, who the fuck are you?!” Smith yelled.

“Nathan,” Marvelous answered. “Nathan Herbert.”

“Nathan Herbert,” Smith said slowly, as if getting used to the feel of the name. “Sounds like a fag name to me. You a soldier, Nathan Herbert?”

Nathan thought about saying no, thought about lying. It would be easy enough. But in the second he thought about it, he realized he wanted this man to know he used to be Army. He wanted this man to think he might be able to get away with a little abuse. “Not anymore,” Nathan answered.

“Once a soldier, always a soldier,” Smith corrected.

“Depends on who you talk to,” Nathan replied.

“What’s the matter, Herbert?” Smith harrumphed. “Did you get a little splinter? You get yourself too hurt to come back?” he sniveled.

“Something like that.”

“And what are you doing out here on a military base, son? You know its a felony to trespass on military soil?!”

“Something like that,” Nathan repeated.

Smith stopped in front of Nathan and pressed the brim of his hat into Nathan’s face. “Oh, so you’re a funny man, are you?”

“Something like that,” Nathan smiled.

Smith stared at Nathan, trying to get him to back down, or trying to figure him out. Nathan returned his gaze.

“No, not you. You’re not like that cum drinker, there,” Smith pointed at Davies. “You’re as cold as a cucumber. You’re some kind of a bad ass. You wanna go ‘round, mister bad ass?”

“Something like that,” Nathan stared at the larger man, daring him to try.

Davies glanced at the gathered soldiers. The soldiers stood at the ready, curious, reluctant, cowed; not sure what was going to happen. Would they really let Smith fight a civilian?

Smith circled Nathan once again. “Lookie, lookie, gentlemen. What do you see?” Smith yelled.

Nobody said anything.

“Well?!” Smith snapped. He locked eyes with one of the soldiers. The soldier snapped to attention. “Uh,” the soldier stammered, unsure what he was supposed to say. “Nothing, sir. I see nothing.”

“What about the rest of you? Is that what the cock-loving lot of you see?!”

“I see what you’re doing!” Davies shouted.

Smith turned and hit him in the stomach, almost before he finished protesting. Davies fell and curled in on himself.

“A lot of goddamn nothing is what you see!” Smith said to the others, and with these words he whirled on Nathan and swung hard for his face.

Nathan dodged back—but not quite quick enough. The punch snapped his head around, though it wasn't enough to daze him. With a vicious grin on his face, Nathan stepped to correct his balance, turned to Smith, and sidestepped the next punch. Smith swung again and again, missed by a hair, and then by a mile. After the fourth punch, Nathan grabbed Smith’s arm. He pulled the captain forward, tripped him into the dirt, then jumped on his back before he might recover. He pulled Smith’s gun from it’s holster and launched the weapon over the gawking soldiers. When he touched the gun, several of the soldiers lifted their weapons and stepped forward, as if they might intercede. With the gun safely out of the way, Marvelous hopped off the C.O. and stood aside. He raised his arms, hoping to have no conflict with the gathered soldiers.

Smith jumped up, sputtering, and swearing with blood on his face. He stepped toward Nathan. He was about to come at Nathan again, when several of the soldiers stepped in front of him.

“Out of the way!” Smith bellowed, but the soldiers refused to move. “He’s a civilian, sir,” one of them pleaded.

Smith looked about. Everyone besides Nathan stood at full attention—even a bloodied Davies. Smith fumed as everyone wondered what he would do. Would he go after this stranger yet again? Would they be forced to reign in their captain before Smith killed the poor guy?!

Oh yes. Let them think I caught Smith off guard, Nathan smiled to himself. Let them think it would end very badly for me if Smith was allowed to continue.

Smith looked about the gathered soldiers. They were all anxious and unsure, but they were tuned to Smith. Once again, Smith was in control of the situation. He was still the A number one bad ass in this tight circle of jerk-offs. Trailing all eyes, he wiped his nose, and stomped back to the jeep. As much as he’d love another shot at this Nathan Herbert fag, he thought better of it. “Fall in!” he bellowed.

All the soldiers piled into the jeeps. Nathan approached the last jeep. The soldiers made room for him, and just as he was about to step in, a hand grabbed him from behind and threw him heavily into the dirt. It was Smith.

“Not you, dumb fuck!”

Nathan started to get up, but Smith kicked him in the ribs, and forced Nathan to roll away from the C.O.’s boot. The C.O. followed him, connecting several more times. Nathan took it, realizing it was retribution for embarrassing the officer, for putting his face in the dirt.

After several strikes, Smith turned on the soldiers of the fifth jeep, “Who the fuck said you could bring your new girlfriend?!” He snapped, then stepped to the first jeep before they could answer. All at once, the jeeps started up. Nathan sat up in the dirt. He watched the soldiers situate themselves. Several watched him, one even bothered to flip him off. “Hoof it,” yelled the soldier—while another dropped his canteen.

Davies sat in the first jeep behind Smith. He took a quick peek back at Marvelous, flashing a mischievous smile, then allowed a mask of regret and trepidation to overcome him as Smith cuffed him across the top of the head.

The first jeep jumped forward, took a hard right, and drove off. The others followed. Slowly, Nathan stood, picked the meteor and the canteen off the ground—which was nice and full—then abandoned the trail set by Davies and followed the jeeps, as they disappeared into the distance.

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