5 comments/ 27143 views/ 7 favorites Like... Last July By: A_Satori copyright ©2008 All rights reserved. Author's note: This is the last 20 pages from story I wrote a while back, about an 18 year old guy who fell in love with his stepmother. His father, Steve, wasn't totally selfish, yet his attentiveness to his new, younger wife, Pam, waned a couple years after the wedding. The most important thing in life to Steve was his business career. Jeff got along better and better with his father's new wife, never thought of her as a stepmother, nor did Pam ever think of Jeff as a stepson. She told him right after the honeymoon, that she never thought she could nor would she ever want to replace his mother, who had died when he was eleven. She told him she hoped they'd be able to become friends, very good friends. Jeff grew to like Pam very much. Pam also felt more and more for Jeff. When he was a senior in high school, they became attracted to each other sexually and romantically. Through Jeff's initiative and manipulation, they eventually had a week long love affair while his father was out of town on a business trip. Pam ignored her feelings of guilt during that week but when Steve returned home, she could no longer rationalize what she had done, even though she knew she had fallen in love with Jeff. She broke off the brief affair. That was in June, 2002. Pam tried to return to the normal "friendship only" relationship with Jeff but it was filled with emotional stress and tension, and grew more strained through July. Pam was torn between her love for Jeff and doing what was right. She knew someone if not all three of them, would get hurt deeply, and might very well ruin all their lives if she ever left Steve in order to be with Jeff. All Jeff could think about was his love for Pam and how much he wanted to be with her. Even though I have left off the vast majority of the original story, I believe the Epilogue is worth posting and believe it could stand on its own as a short story. I've included the last chapter of the original story below as a "prequel" to help make sense of a couple things in the Epilogue, and to give a reason for Jeff's decision. Hopefully it will also allow the reader to "get to know" the characters somewhat before the Epilogue. I believe this story belongs in the category of "Romance" even though the erotic segments came before this last chapter of the story: Like... Last July Jeff took a slow breath and was surprised his father didn't start talking. "Now, as far as taking responsibility for my life and actions, I think I'm doing that. I'm talking to you now about it. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't tell you anything. I'm not married. I don't have a family, I mean, you know, no wife, no kids. I guess I'm too young for that, but I have myself and I'm being responsible to myself." Jeff thought he was doing a good job of verbalizing a lot of stuff he hadn't really thought all the way through. He met his father's eyes. "Look, Dad, I know I'm only eighteen, okay? I don't know everything, I know I probably have a lot to learn about life... about everything, but... but I really believe and really feel joining the Marines is the absolute best thing for me to do right now. I think... I think in the long run it will be good for... well for me and for... for maybe everyone." Pam quickly wiped the tears from her eyes again. Oh dear god NO! It started to hit Steve that his son had actually signed a binding contract. "Jeff, you never had to worry about money for school. I told you..." Jeff interrupted, "Dad, I know that, and... and I may not have really said it, but I appreciated it a lot, but it's not about the money at all." He let a small smile appear. "I would have kept track and paid you back, you know, even though it might have taken a while." Jeff was shocked to see his father's eyes begin to tear up. He had never seen him cry in his entire life, not even at Mom's funeral. He suddenly seemed very old to Jeff. "Dad, look... I..." He stopped talking because his father abruptly stood and walked out of the dining room. He heard the patio door in family room slide open and then close. He looked at Pam. Tears were falling from her eyelashes. Pam sniffled and wiped her nose with her napkin. "Go to him, Jeff... go out there." She couldn't stop her face from scrinching up nor stop her tears from falling faster. "Go... go out to him." Why?! Why did he do something so crazy?! It's me! He's doing it to get away from me! It's all MY fault! Jeff wanted to take her in his arms, not talk to his father. He pushed his chair back, stood and took a step towards her. Pam held up her hand. "G-go to your dad." She started sobbing. She rose from her chair and ran to the powder room. What the fuck is going on?! Jeff looked at the foyer and thought about following Pam. He took a quick breath and knew he couldn't follow her with Dad home. He angrily shoved his chair towards the table and headed to the family room. He saw Dad standing by the pool. He pulled the sliding door open stepped outside and walked up to him. His father was wiping his eyes and then his nose with a folded white handkerchief. Why is everyone acting so fucking crazy?! Jeff took a slow deep breath. He figured he should just cut Dad some slack. What did it matter? He put his hand on his father's shoulder. "Dad, I guess... well... I'm sorry I've disappointed you so much." "Ahh... dammit, Jeff, you haven't disappointed me... ever. I was just thinking how.... how lousy a father I've been to you. I can see why you didn't come to me for advice." Jeff spoke without thinking. "You haven't been a lousy father, you're a terrific dad." Jeff realized he wasn't really sure what the definition of 'terrific dad' was, but knew his father wasn't one. He guessed Dad was just average. He withdrew his hand from his father's shoulder. Steve looked at his son. "C'mon, Jeff, we know that's...." he forced a small smile, "I guess in Marine jargon, they'd call that 'bullshit.'" He chuckled at his own joke but didn't think it was funny. He gazed at the pool again. "I know I should have been around more, both for you and your mother. I... I let the job take over my damn life, and now... hell, now you're suddenly a man and.... and you don't need a father. I... I don't agree with your decision at all but... I didn't mean to imply that you were some stupid kid just now. I'm... I'm sorry about that." "Don't worry about it." Jeff put both his hands in the pockets of his baggy shorts. He tried to remember if his father had ever said he was sorry before to anyone. There hadn't been a time, not to Pam, and not to Mom either. Steve still looking at the water shook his head. "Let's sit down, okay?" "Sure." They sat on the cushioned chaises. Jeff remembered sitting together with Pamela in the very same chair, his arms around her, her back against his chest, his lips kissing her temple as they talked softly. Steve glanced at his son for a moment, then stared again at the water in the pool. "We rarely talk about your mother, but... I think she'd be very upset right now, yet she'd also be very proud of you. She always was. You know all those wrestling matches, football games and Little League games I only caught parts of, or missed completely? Well, I really didn't miss them in a way. Your mother would give me a play by play, minute by minute description when I got home." He sighed. "Ahhh... god... I miss her so much sometimes. I..." He felt himself choking up again and waited a moment to continue. "I... I really did... love her, Jeff, but... but looking back, I can see that she loved me a hundred, a thousand times more." Again Steve felt his throat tightening. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes quickly. "I guess... I guess I never told her very often how I felt about her. I guess I thought putting in all that time at the office told her, but... but it didn't, not really. And... and I know I never... never really showed or told you how much I care about you... and how proud I am of you, and... that... that I... I love you. I hope you know I do, son." Jeff mind was filled with images of his mother, how loving she had been and what a jerky kid he had been to her. He knew what he had to say, knew what Mom would want him to say right now. "I... I love you too, Dad." The words made him feel guilty to his core as visions of his wonderful mother were replaced with different wonderful visions of Pamela. What would Mom think? How could I have done it? Two minutes of awkward silence ensued until Steve broke it. "So..." He cleared his throat. "So when exactly are you going off to basic training?" "There'll be a travel day, that's on Tuesday right after Labor Day, then boot camp starts the following day, Wednesday. I don't remember the exact dates, just that it's the day after Labor Day. I think I'll be going to Parris Island, but the recruiter wasn't absolutely sure. It might be San Diego." "What will you be doing? I mean after boot camp. I've seen those TV commercials, saying you can select an area of concentration, you know, the work you'll be doing." How could he have been so fucking stupid?! Jeff didn't want to tell him. "I'm not sure. They give you a bunch of aptitude tests and... well, to tell ya the truth, I don't think any military branch is all that honest about those specialty areas." "So... you mean like if you choose communications, you might end up in the infantry as a radio operator?" Jeff grinned and looked at his father. "Yeah, you got it." He looked at his son. He was and always had been proud of Jeff but again wished he would have talked the decision over with him. He wondered if he would have been able to change his son's mind. It was obvious Jeff wasn't totally naive but he still seemed so damn young. Steve suddenly had a sinking feeling as he reviewed the history of his son's life. He had been on the small size for football, yet the few times he had seen him play, he had been one of the toughest kids on the team, in on nearly every tackle. He had been a tough wrestler too, from what he had heard from Mary. "You... you're thinking about doing something... tough... challenging, aren't you?" He had never noticed his father being perceptive before. "I don't know, maybe." "Jeff?" "Yeah?" "Whatever you choose or...or they have you doing, you... you just damn well better come back home sound of mind and body." "Dad, I told you, there's hardly any Marines in Afghanistan." Steve's jaw tensed but he didn't want to repeat the argument they just had. There would be no purpose in it now. "Promise me. Promise me you won't do anything..." he was about to say dangerous and knew it would be ridiculous to say that to a marine. "...anything stupid. Don't think that war is like some video game, or... or one of those old war movies where the hero always lives and gets the girl." "Yeah, Dad, I know. I've seen 'Saving Pvt. Ryan' a couple times. And there isn't any girl to get." A vision of Pamela nude in bed with him flashed in his mind. "Jeff, I have no experience at all with the military or war, but my guess is that war is much worse than even what was portrayed in that film. Don't go into this having some crazy notion about being some hero. The only heroes are the ones who die, and maybe they aren't heroes either, they're just the unlucky ones. I don't want you to be some name chiseled into some goddamn war monument." He looked at his son. "Promise me. Promise me you'll come back safe and sound. "Jeez... Dad, come on." "Promise me." "Okay, yeah, I promise, but you have nothing to worry about." Steve looked into his son's eyes and saw Jeff didn't think there was any danger awaiting him. Steve hoped he was right. "Okay, let me have it." "What do you mean?" "What area, what specialty are you going to try for?" Jeff debated whether to tell the truth. He decided to and if Dad got pissed, that was his father's problem. He then decided to fudge his answer a bit and leave off the first word. "Recon." "Is that... does that mean reconnaissance? Jeff felt himself stepping back from the total truth. "Yeah, reconnaissance." "So, what is that? Looking at aerial photos, satellite photos? That sort of thing?" Jeff took a giant step back from the truth. "Well... I'm not exactly sure yet, yeah... it could mean something like that I guess." They heard the patio door slide open. Steve turned and saw Pam walking towards them with two bottles of beer in her hands. He smiled and raised his voice a bit, "How did you know I was thirsty?" "I thought you both might be." Pam motioned one bottle towards the back of Jeff's chair. Steve's brow pinched for a moment and then he nodded slightly and smiled again. Pam walked up in front of them. She handed one bottle to him and held the other out to Jeff. Jeff reached for the proffered bottle and then stopped. He looked at Pam's face. Her eyes looked puffy and it seemed she had touched up her minimal makeup. "Pam, that's a beer." Steve took a drink from his bottle. "Take it, son. I'm sure you've had a few before. It's the least we can do for a marine. Just that one though. Pam, why don't you go and... listen, you sit, I'll get you something. What? Another glass of wine?" Both Jeff and Pam looked at him. It was the first time he had offered to do something like that for her in a very long time. Pam said, "Don't you two want to be alone?" Both Jeff and Steve simultaneously said, "No." All three of them chuckled. Steve said, "We already had an... an overdue conversation, Pam." He began to rise. "So, what would you like to drink?" "Oh... thanks for asking but, you sit. I'll get it and be back. Are you sure you want me to join you two?" She looked back and forth between Steve and Jeff. Father and son looked at each other then said together, "Yes, we're sure." Everyone laughed briefly again. "Silly boys." Pam walked back to the house. Maybe everything will be okay. She thought it was odd considering what had happened a couple months ago, but for the first time since marrying Steve, she felt they were a family. She hoped it would last, but knew it wouldn't. Tomorrow she'd wake and still want to be beside Jeff not Steve. As she pulled the patio door open, she felt tears rising again. Please God, please keep him safe and bring him back unharmed. Please, God, please. Steve watched Pam enter the family room. He turned around and sipped his beer. "Jeff, I don't mean to compare it at all to what it was with your mother, so don't misunderstand me, but you and Pam and me, well, we're... we're a family." A minute ago Jeff had felt it too, but the sensation had lasted only a moment. He knew when she returned, he'd want her to sit on the chaise with him as she had in June, lean her back against his chest, talk softly together, kiss her hair and her ears, just as he had done then. He'd want to feel again how it seemed just as intimate to be with her like that as it did making love with her. He knew he'd never stop wanting that, or her, or all of it with her. He'd always feel the same, love her the same years from now, maybe the rest of his life. He also realized she'd never change her mind about choosing to remain his father's wife, yet he would always hope she would. Joining the Marines had been the right decision. Steve stared at the water and started thinking about the new acquisition the corporation was considering. A small avionics company that had some new gadget in the development stage. He smiled. Maybe he'd be involved with the military soon too. Jeff took a swig from his bottle. "Yeah, Dad. I guess your right." "Huh? About what?" "The... the family thing." "Oh... yeah." Steve took another pull of beer wishing it was a scotch. He liked drinking a little Black Label when he was making plans regarding a new acquisition. He heard the patio door slide open. He didn't turn to look at Pam but kept gazing at the water, plotting strategy about the possible takevoer. He didn't think anything about Jeff looking back then getting off the chaise and offering it to her. Like... Last July Jeff shouted gratuitously, "Tom, concentrate on the left, I'll eyeball the right!" He glanced at the radio and checked the volume. He hoped to hear the LT's voice telling them to U-ey, but it stayed silent. He expected Tom to open up on some target at any moment. Jeff readied himself to lean out the window and start firing. He and Greg watched the lieutenant's Humvee disappear through the thick black curtain. Their guts tightened waiting for the sound of an explosion. Greg slowed the vehicle slightly as he hit the dark veil. Acrid smoke billowed into the interior of the Humvee as it bounced and lurched over the flaming tires and through the screen. They all exhaled a breath of relief when they weren't hit by anything and even felt very lucky for a brief moment until they saw the second line of burning tires eighty meters ahead. Greg shouted, "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" Again they all tensed as the leading Humvee disappeared once again behind billowing black smoke. Just before Greg drove through it, a gust of wind came up and blew a brief opening in the curtain. "Ohhhh, shit," Greg groaned. He and Jeff stared at the overturned bus blocking the next intersection and the broken down cars lining both sides of the street. Their vehicle began bouncing over the burning tires. The radio squawked garbled words. Without thinking, Jeff felt his kevlar vest for the magazines he already knew were there and then pressed his fingertips where his shirt pocket was. He turned around to look out the open rear window. He shouted, "Billy's through too! I can't see the eight!" He bounced in his seat again and his helmet tilted down. He batted it up. "I see the eight!" He looked forward. The lieutenant's Humvee was frantically trying to make a three point turn, its tires spinning clouds of dust into the air. His body leaned hard against the door as Greg made a sharp skidding turn to attempt the same maneuver. He heard Tom start firing the fifty in long bursts. Jeff looked around for targets. He hoped Tom was laying down cover fire with no targets. Then the fifty on the LT's vehicle started firing too. "Where the fuck are they?!" Jeff heard small arms rounds hitting the vehicle. He continued searching for targets as Greg put it in reverse and looked back out the rear. BOOM-BOOM!... BOOM! Three nearly simultaneous explosions ripped through the air. The shock waves made the Humvee bounce twice. "FUCK!" shouted Greg. Jeff looked out the left side window. "It's the eight!" The large truck was engulfed in orange flames. Jeff knew that in addition to the two in the cab, there had been eight more marines in the bed, mechanics trying to get to their unit farther up the advance. One had been a girl. He saw the fifty on Billy's Humvee firing too. Billy braked to a stop probably to let the LT and Greg make their three point turns. He couldn't back up because of the burning eight ton. Jeff watched the RPG go straight through Billy's windshield. WHUMP! Billy's Humvee seemed to expand for an instant before it jumped five feet into the air. The roof and sides of the vehicle instantly disintegrated becoming shards of shrapnel. Jeff knew all the men inside were at best nothing more than charred, shredded meat now. He scrambled over the seat. He readied another belt for Tom. "Ammo ready!" Jeff again wished they weren't short a man. Greg thought the LT was waiting for him to finish his three point turn. He hurried to straighten out the vehicle but then the other Humvee lurched forward scraping the side of their vehicle. As it passed, he saw the LT shouting at his driver. It kept moving forward and shoved the burning carcass of Billy's Humvee more to the side. There was just barely enough room for the lieutenant's Humvee to squeeze between the blazing eight ton and junked cars. Greg floored the gas pedal following the LT. Jeff helped Tom get another belt in the fifty as the Humvee bounced and filled again with smoke and the stench of burning rubber. His heart was racing as he crawled back into the front seat. Again he felt his vest for the mags that he had checked for a dozen times, then tapped the spot where his shirt pocket was. Tom was firing short bursts at the roofs. Greg slowed the vehicle slightly and increased his swerving from side to side on the once again wide street. When ten more meters had opened up between him and the lieutenant's Humvee, he floored it again. He didn't want to tailgate the leading vehicle. He stared at the billowing smoke ahead. "I don't have a good feeling about goin' back through this next one!" "No shit!" Jeff watched Ron, the LT's fifty gunner, laying down continuous fire to both sides of the street. He wasn't too careful about where he was aiming, not that he could given the street condition and speed. For a moment Jeff wondered how many non-combatants were behind those windows. It was only a brief thought because the next smoky wall was fast approaching. As the lead vehicle plunged into the blackness, Jeff heard the lieutenant shouting on the radio, but it was still garbled. There was a small explosion, probably a grenade. Greg drove through the smoke curtain then his foot rammed down on the brake pedal skidding the Humvee to a stop. Jeff's body lunged against the dashboard and windshield. The lieutenant's Humvee was stopped twenty-five meters ahead near a road blocking barricade of cars at the intersection that hadn't been there less than a few minutes ago. Gray smoke was rising from beneath Hummer's hood. They were taking sporadic small arms fire. The LT got out, firing his weapon with one hand. His other arm and hand were holding the radio. He was shouting into the mike still sending static filled nonsense. Ron was firing the .50 to the right side of the street. Tom was still firing too. Jeff quickly crawled over the seat again. He buttoned up the rear and side windows raising the steel plates suddenly wishing the gun openings were smaller. He grabbed another belt and waited for Tom to call for ammo. Jeff turned his head and saw the LT was now crouched at the rear of the smoking Humvee. He was still talking into the radio and repeatedly pointing to a store front ahead of their position. Greg floored the gas then stopped again at the shop where the lieutenant was pointing. Tom reached down for a new belt. Jeff handed it to him. Greg yelled, "Let's move!" He grabbed his M-16 and the radio then opened the door. He got out and crouched looking for targets, then randomly fired at the windows and roofs above and up and down his side of the street. He looked at the door of the shop. It was closed and had a grid of steel bars over the glass. The next shop down had an open door. He didn't want to chance the closed door was dead bolted, so he rose and ran the fifteen feet to the open door of the next shop. It had been looted, stripped bare of nearly everything including the light fixtures. From the doorway, he started firing three round bursts at the windows across the street to cover the LT. Jeff scrambled out of the Humvee's open door. He crouched alongside the vehicle's hood and scanned the near side of the street looking for weapons protruding or heads popping out from the rooftops, doors, or windows but saw nothing. The storefront began taking a lot of small arms rounds. Jeff turned around and started firing at every window and roof he thought fire might be coming from across the street. It seemed enemy fire was only coming from the buildings across the street and the line of cars. He hoped it was a classic "L" ambush and didn't have to worry too much about his side of the street. He saw Ron on the other Humvee's .50 get hit with at least two rounds. It was like an invisible baseball bat had slammed into his chest twice. The driver got out firing continuously on full auto at the line of cars as he crouched behind the open door. The guy emptied the entire clip. He fumbled a few seconds getting a new mag in. As he turned to make his way to the rear of vehicle to join the lieutenant, a grenade bounced off the hood of the Humvee landing a couple meters to the left side of the vehicle and exploded. The driver was hit and fell to the street writhing. The LT pointed to the storefront again and then belly crawled to the driver. He dragged him to the rear of the angled Humvee. Kneeling on the pavement, he attached his weapon low on his back, then he worked the driver up onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He wrapped the strap of the small radio around his hand then gripped the driver's arm again. He stayed crouched looking from Greg to Jeff. Tom stopped firing, and hurriedly pulled another belt up to the fifty. Jeff raised his fist in a "wait" sign to the lieutenant and then pointed to the fifty. He aimed his weapon and started firing where he saw muzzle flashes in a second floor window three buildings down from the LT. Tom started firing the fifty. The lieutenant rose carrying the driver and started running to the storefront. His helmet fell off. Jeff's fire halted the enemy fire coming from the window. He turned to look for more targets to cover the LT just in time to see the lieutenant's head explode into a bloody cloud. His momentum threw the driver forward off his shoulders. Enemy fire raked across the guy's legs a few times. His body jerked each time he was hit. Jeff looked at Greg. He was still firing across the street. Jeff crouched lower against the Humvee and exhaled sharply, "Fuck." He wished he knew the driver's name but the guy had just transferred in that morning and he couldn't recall what it was. He remembered someone had said the guy was only a couple months out of boot. From his crouch Jeff fired three round bursts at a half dozen windows and then a few more at the line of cars. He yelled to the fallen driver in his best impression of a DI voice, "MARINE! MOVE YOU LAZY SONOFABITCH! DO IT! CRAWL! CRAWL TOWARDS MY VOICE RIGHT NOW!" He watched the guy try to move but he just squirmed in place. It was then Jeff noticed that the guy's foot was attached to his leg with nothing more than a strip of flesh at best, maybe just a piece of cloth. The fifty went silent. Jeff turned and saw Tom dip down into the Humvee again for another belt of ammo. Jeff duck walked to the open driver's door. "Tom! Cover me! I gotta get LT's driver! Cover me!" Tom screamed his words quickly, "I don't know where the fuck they are! They must be movin' around! Did you see Ron get hit?! It went right through his vest! You think there might be a sniper with some fuckin' armor piercing rounds or some special shit?! Fuck! Okay! I'll rake all the fuckin' cars and buildings!" He stood up, slammed the first round into the chamber and started firing. Jeff was thinking about the lieutenant's missing head as he quickly slung his weapon onto his back. He tighten the chin strap on his helmet then looked up to see Greg staring at him, shaking his head and frowning. Jeff gave him the hand sign for cover fire. Greg shrugged and started firing on full auto, spraying the windows and roof lines across the street, then the cars. Jeff, his heart racing, took a quick breath and darted the twenty feet to the fallen marine. He grabbed the collar and waist of the guy's kevlar vest. He picked him up as best he could and ran awkwardly with every ounce of his strength and speed to the open shop door. He bumped into Greg as he virtually threw the wounded marine into the vacant shop. He fell to the floor too as the front of the store suddenly took a lot of small arms rounds. Jeff felt like vomiting. When he grabbed the marine he had envisioned his own head exploding just like LT's. He hurriedly opened his aid kit. He quickly applied a tourniquet just below the marine's knee. His barely attached foot had fallen off in the dash into the store. Jeff knew he had half dragged the guy but also knew he would have lost the foot anyway even if he had been medivacced. He emptied a packet of dry antibacterial on the stump and quickly bandaged it. He then rolled the guy over. Jeff was surprised to see him still alive when he saw the other wounds. The nameless marine repeatedly murmured, "Oh Mary oh Mother of God oh Mary oh Mother of God..." Jeff looked at the guy's legs as he hurriedly pulled out his knife to cut the pant leg. Both were hit. The lower left thigh was ripped wide open, he could see bone, but it was the right thigh that worried Jeff. He cut the soaked pant leg. A thick stream of hot sticky blood pumped out of the wound with each heartbeat. He pressed the heel of his hand down as hard as he could against the hole. He looked at the guy's face. It was ghost white under the blood and dirt. He kept pressing against the wound, maybe it would give the guy a few more seconds, maybe another minute. He leaned down so they were face to face. Jeff thought he looked like someone's little brother, a kid, but was probably only a year younger than himself. Because of his murmured mantra, Jeff figured the guy was probably a Catholic as he was. He decided what to say and wondered if it would actually make any difference for the guy in another minute. He shouted, "I'm gonna patch you up! You're gonna be okay, man! But what the hell, say you're sorry to God!" The guy's dazed eyes blinked. "Just tell God you're sorry for all your sins and it's ALL gonna be OKAY!" The kid nodded and even gave Jeff a little smile, then he started shaking. Jeff grabbed his small aid kit with his free hand but had to lift his other off the leg wound to get the styrette of morphine out. When he finally had it and looked up the marine was motionless, his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Jeff knew he had bled out. One of the rounds had severed the femoral artery. He didn't check for a pulse. The kid had basically been KIA out on the street. Jeff gazed at the dead eyes. He didn't know he was holding his own breath. Greg turned his head and shouted, "Jeff! How bad is he?!" Jeff swallowed. "Kee-ah!" "Check out the rear!" Greg looked outside again and started firing out the store window at muzzle flashes from the line of cars. Jeff unslung his M16 and looked at the dimly lit rear of the store. He wondered about a back entry. There was a narrow hallway on the left. He jumped up and went to the back wall. He checked his magazine and exchanged it with a full one. He looked quickly around the corner. He saw two doors off the hallway and the rear entry door at the end of the hall. One hallway door was closed as was the rear door to the building. The rear door looked to be steel. He imagined little kids huddled on a bed in each of the small rooms. He then imagined a couple hadjies in each room with AKs pointed at the door. He thumbed the lever to put his weapon on full auto. He moved down the hall, his back to the wall. To look through the open first doorway he turned around to face the wall then quickly tilted and pulled back his head. He didn't see anyone. He did it again to be sure. There was broken furniture in the room. There wasn't a door hinged to the door frame. He quietly moved down to the next room. He stepped past the door so he could use his left hand on the doorknob as he held his weapon with his right. He turned the knob and then pushed the door so hard that when swung inward, it banged against the wall. The sound made him flinch. Empty crates and refuse were in the room. Nothing more. There was a tiny barred window letting light in. He shivered for a moment picturing huddled kids again, realizing he had almost hosed the room. He checked the rear door. It was steel. It was locked. He set his weapon back to semi-auto and ran to the front of the shop where Greg was firing three round bursts. He shouted over the noise to Greg, "Did you get anyone on the radio?!" Jeff fired a dozen rounds at the line of cars, then looked over at Greg. "Can't get shit on it!" He aimed at another window and fired. Jeff took a deep breath. "Tom should get in here with the fifty! I'll help him with it!" He glanced at the back of the store. "The rear is clear! Steel door is locked, but don't forget about your six!" He imagined a hadji with a key opening the door and a few grenades rolling in. Greg kept firing and nodded. "Cover me!" Jeff set his weapon against the wall next to his friend. He waited until Greg put in a new mag and started firing five second auto bursts, raking the windows and roofs across the street. Jeff angled out the door, sprinting the short distance to the vehicle and dove inside. He heard the pings from rounds hitting the Humvee. "TOM!" Tom ducked into the Humvee. Jeff shouted, "Let's take cover in the building! Can you get the fifty?! I'll take the ammo!" "It's hotter than hell!" He blinked a couple times at Jeff. "How about this?! I'll finish off the belt to cover you, then I'll set it on the roof and get it from there! You guys cover me!" He stared at Jeff for a moment. "Yeah, let's do it like that! You take the ammo! I'll take the fifty..." He looked to the floor and pulled the folded tripod from the back of the car. "... and the 'pod! But... shit, that weapon is fuckin' hot!" "Okay! If you can't do it, fuck it! We'll come back for it!" Tom grinned crazily. "Maybe I'll jump on the roof and piss on the fuckin' thing first to cool it off!" Jeff grinned and almost started laughing. He nodded, "Yeah, do that!" He knew why they were both grinning like idiots. He grabbed one handle of the heavy box of 50 caliber ammo. They both heard small arms rounds hitting the Humvee and both thanked God they had welded scrap steel to it a month ago. Louie Lou had scrounged the steel. Tom helped him shove and lift the ammo box to the Humvee's open door. Jeff crouched outside the door and gripped both handles of the box. He met Tom's eyes for a long moment, their grins had disappeared. Words weren't necessary. They both knew they were in very deep shit. When Tom began firing, Jeff heaved the ammo box up. He lunged and stumbled with it angling towards the shop doorway. He heard pops near his ear. He knew they were micro sonic booms of small arms rounds passing by his head. He slid to the floor of the shop with the box. He stayed there for a few moments trying to catch his breath. He was shaking and had to get that under control too. He took a long drink from his water bottle then rose and got his weapon. Greg had used up the clip. He slapped in a fresh mag. He looked at Tom squatting with his back against the Humvee. The fifty was on the ground in front of him along with the tripod. He had his gloves on plus his left hand was wrapped with a rag ready to lift the fifty's hot muzzle to get the weapon onto his shoulder. His M-16 was slung over his back. He was waiting for the incoming small arms fire to lessen. Jeff moved to the right side of the door. He still didn't know which windows the enemy fire was coming from. He fired a few brief auto bursts at every one he figured would be good places for the hadjies to be firing from. He or Greg must have guessed right because the incoming fire suddenly slacked off. They both kept firing. Tom shouted, "Cover me!" He hoisted the fifty to his shoulder and grabbed the tripod with his free hand. He got up to a crouch but before he took the first step he was hit in the shoulder. The round turned him and then seemed to slap him back against the Humvee. The fifty and the tripod clattered to the pavement. Jeff heard it. He poked his head out the doorway and looked right. He saw a combatant in a striped T shirt and blue jeans running away along the buildings holding an AK in his hand. It looked like a teenager. Before Jeff could bring his weapon to bear the kid disappeared into a building. "Fuck!" He jerked back behind the door jamb again. Greg shouted. "Tom's hit bad! He ain't gonna make it in here by himself! I think the fuckers are in them two windows, fourth and fifth from that little alley!" He figured they would spray the windows then he would dash out and get Tom.