Tempted by Elise Marion

that could sprout wings at her leisure, he still felt terrible.
    He could barely remember the subway ride home. He’d stood in the train, staring blankly ahead, his mind in another place and time.
    It was the worst possible explanation for everything he had been through, and it made him sick to his stomach. Watching men fall around him, dropped by bullets and ripped apart by explosions, was something that would haunt his dreams forever. The slow-moving scenes played out in his mind like some sort of demented theater show. Even now, as he stood on the fire escape, watching the lightning that flashed behind gray clouds, he could see it like he was still there. He could hear every sound, feel every emotion all over again in startling detail…
     
     
     
     
    All had grown silent. The shots and explosions had stopped seconds ago. The Iraqis probably through he was dead. God help him if they decided to descend the ridge and rifle through the carnage.
    Jackson leaned against the side of the only remaining Humvee, cradling what was left of Lieutenant Rawls in his arms. While giving the Iraqi’s a taste of the 50 caliber machine gun, the lieutenant had been struck in the chest by a flying mortar. The mortar had sent him sprawling to the ground.
    He trembled in Jackson’s arms as he struggled to breathe. Blood oozed from his ears and the corners of his mouth. It stained Jackson’s hands as he applied pressure to the gaping hole in Rawls’ stomach.
    “ That chopper…won’t land until we’re…all clear Bennett,” Rawls gasped between short, sharp breaths. “You gotta finish ‘em.”
    Jackson looked to his left where the hollowed, smoking shells of the other Humvees lay crumpled in the desert sand. His stomach rolled as his eyes moved over what was left of Smith, Thompson, Doc, and Jones.
    He’d been the only one to see that RPG round coming. He’d been the only one to move before it had struck, taking out the Humvee containing Reedley, Richards, and Scott. The other four had been taken out by a barrage of bullets and mortars as Jackson scrambled toward the fourth Humvee, where he now sat cowering with Lieutenant Rawls in his arms.
    “ I have to keep pressure on this wound,” Jackson said, even as a fresh wave of blood spurted from the wound. Rawls’ body shook with laughter that quickly turned into a sputtered cough as he spat blood into the sand.
    “ Goddamnit Bennett, we both know I’m going to die. Get your ass up in that turret and blast those ragheads to kingdom come so that chopper can land and get you out of here.”
    Tears filled Jackson’s eyes and his throat nearly closed with the force of his grief. “No sir,” said Jackson, shaking his head furiously from side to side. “I will not. Too many men have died today, and I won’t let you be next.”
    Rawls smiled, gifting Jackson with the gruesome sight of his blood-stained teeth. “You always were a defiant one, Bennett. But you’ve got a lot goin’ for you. When you get out of here, get your Purple Heart and battlefield promotion, you’re going to make one hell of a Staff Sergeant.”
    “ I want you to be the one to pin me, sir,” Jackson said, continuing to put pressure on the wound. “I want you to be there.”
    Rawls laughed again, coughing up another mouthful of blood. He placed his limp hand over Jackson’s. “Let go, son. Get up there and kick some ass. That’s a freakin’ order.”
    Seconds later, Rawls was gone.
    Rage burst through Jackson’s body, red, raw and ugly. In his mind he could see the dismembered body parts and pink mist; all that remained of his battle brothers. He gently laid Lieutenant Rawls’ body in the sand and tossed his M4 rifle aside.
    He stood, unafraid, and leaped up into the Humvee’s turret. Gunshots blasted from the top of the ridge where the Iraqi’s resumed their fire, determined to squelch the last of the resistance against them.
    Jackson aimed the 50 caliber machine gun at his enemy and opened