Chapter One
The land stretched out before them, a metal necropolis of dying machines and once-grand buildings, their faces slowly crumbling above foundations weakened by boys with bombs. Shell casings littered the dusty road like quiet witnesses terrified into their silence. Like the men who had carried them across vast oceans, they would speak no more.
Tanner gently kicked a shell with one combat boot but couldn’t avoid stepping on others. The metal crushed beneath his army-issued boots. He shifted, unease settling in the pit of his stomach. He would be happy when this war was over. That is, when it was really over. Troops had been recalled from Afghanistan for well over a year now, but there were still a few platoons scattered throughout the area. His squad was part of the routine troop rotation offering training support to the Afghan army. Unfortunately, routine didn’t equate to safe. There were only four of them walking this beat right now, and while it was the size of every other fire team, it still didn’t seem nearly enough should they come under attack.
He jerked to his right. What had that been in his peripheral vision? A small, dangerous shadow… or his mind playing tricks on him? He scanned the area, his eyes resting on the skeletal remains of an armored truck that had apparently lost a battle with some IED designed to explode in such a way that only the main compartment remained.
“What is it, McKoy?”
Tanner continued studying the spot that had caught his eye. Nothing seemed amiss. He turned to the squad’s sergeant – and his best friend – Christopher “Chip” Walker.
“Can’t say for sure, Sarge. I thought I saw something moving, but you know how it is. Too many goats; not enough brain grenades.”
The other men, Hall and Martinez, laughed at the joke. Only one side of the sergeant’s mouth twitched, though. His favorite primetime comedian could’ve been standing there cracking jokes and no one would ever know if Chip was in on the fun. You had to respect a person who could swallow laughter the way that man did when he was in the field.
“Yeah, well, you find a bar in the middle of this godforsaken desert and the first round’s on me. Otherwise, might be best if we check out your… goat.”
“Yes, sir.”
All four men began to slowly move forward. Tanner’s mind began to run wild. What if someone was hiding back there, waiting to pop up and attack? Worse yet, what if it was a distraction and they were attacked from behind?
Shuffling sounded from the rear side of the vehicle. They all stopped.
Chip signaled for Hall and Martinez to flank left. Tanner followed to the right. Rifles lifted, they took their positions – ready to act – when a large, furry head popped out from around the truck.
“Well, that’s some goat.”
Chip dropped his rifle and everyone followed suit when a scruffy-looking dog peered out at them. Tanner knelt down, laying his weapon on the ground beside him. He clapped his hands.
“Come here, handsome!”
“Handsome?” Martinez snorted. His accent thickened and everyone smiled. “My Mexican relatives have better looking mutts on their ranch.”
“What do you know about beauty?” Tanner smirked. “Ever look in a mirror?”
A large grin spread across his comrade’s face.
“Every day, and that’s how I know.” He copied Tanner, kneeling in the dirt to make his own attempt at coercing the dog out. “You don’t get much better looking than this, baby.”
“Dog whisperers y’all ain’t.” Hall snickered. “Neither one of you sorry somethings is gonna’ get that dog out. Step aside and let a pro show you how it’s done.”
He joined the other two in calling to the animal, but it just stared back at the men.
“Here, let’s sweeten the deal.” Tanner reached into one of his pockets and pulled out some of the beef jerky he always carried. “This ought to do the trick. Come and get it, boy.”
He waved the dried meat around and the dog shuffled forward, then jerked back.
“He’s stuck,” Chip said. “I’ll go pull him out.”
Tanner stood as the sarge walked over and took hold of the animal. What followed next happened in a flash. The worried look on Chip’s face; his orders, soundless against a brilliant flash that sent the other men flying backwards. Excruciating pain shooting up Tanner’s leg before everything went black.
Tanner bolted out of bed, his miscalculation landing him in a heap on the floor. He sat, panting in the dark, his clothes soaked with cold sweat. A tingling sensation ran down his right leg and he reached out to rub the spot below his knee, abruptly pulling back when he abruptly remembered.
His leg was gone.