JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER Page 6

  Jack grabbed the trash bag and took the dog out. Ten minutes later, they stood in front of Replacement’s bedroom. The dog refused to go in.

  Jack pulled the leash, and the dog growled but wouldn’t budge.

  “Get in her room,” Jack fiercely whispered.

  The dog sat down.

  Replacement moaned and rolled over.

  Jack shut the door.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you, dog?” Jack snarled and the dog growled. “Do you want to sleep out here?” He gestured to the living room.

  The dog just stared at him.

  It’s got food. It’s got water. It just ate my steak. What else can it want?

  Jack ran his fingers through his hair before he stomped over to his bedroom. The dog got up and followed him to his door.

  “No,” Jack said. But when he cracked his door open, the dog rushed past him. “Stop.”

  The dog jumped up on his bed.

  “No way.” Jack lunged forward and the dog spun around and snapped. “Get the hell off my bed or I’m going to shoot you.” Every time he reached out, the dog flattened her ears and bared her teeth. “Get off.”

  She barked.

  Jack moved over and closed the bedroom door. He turned to glare at the dog. Jack grabbed one of the blankets from his bed and stormed over to the corner of the room. “Listen, mammoth mutt, I don’t want you here. You don’t want to be here. I get it. But you’re not waking up my girl, so shut up. You can sleep in here, but there is no way you’re sleeping on my bed.” He laid the blanket in the corner of the room.

  Jack marched back over to the bed and glared at the dog.

  The dog bared her teeth.

  Jack did too.

  Suddenly, she hopped off the bed and trotted over to the blanket. The dog walked around in a circle a few times before she lay down.

  Jack exhaled. As he shook off his blankets, he looked at the dog on his floor. She lay with her head on her paws and stared back at him. He slid under the blankets and stared at the ceiling. Just as his eyes started to close, the dog’s head shot up and she frantically glanced around. After a second, she lay her head back down and whined.

  Jack exhaled and looked over the edge of the bed at the dog. The dog gazed at him with huge brown eyes.

  “Seriously?”

  The dog whimpered and shut her eyes.

  Jack tossed back the covers and stomped out to the living room. He rubbed his eyes as he scanned the floor. When he bent over to check under the couch, he saw the Raggedy Anne doll against the wall. Snagging it, he trudged back to his bedroom. He dropped the doll and the dog caught it in her mouth before it reached the floor.

  Jack got into bed, but as he switched the light off, the dog whined again. He lay there in the dark a few seconds and held his breath, but she didn’t make any other noises.

  “It’s okay, dog,” Jack said aloud. “Daniel will call soon and you’ll get to go back home.”

  Great. Now I’m talking to a dog.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Snow Globe

  Jack kept his eyes closed as he tried to force himself to fall asleep. He concentrated on slowing his breathing and listening to his heartbeat. He felt that wave of sleep pulling him under and his head rolled to the side.

  IRAQ

  As the Humvee hit a pothole, Jack’s helmet tapped against the metal doorframe. His eyes snapped open.

  The heat was stifling. The blazing hot sun outside cast sharp shadows inside the vehicle. Jack sat in the back of the Humvee with five other soldiers. Chandler had somehow managed to cram his enormous frame into the back and sat across from Jack. Mac and Tech sat across from each other, with Mac on Jack’s right. Butcher sat in the passenger seat and Hank drove.

  Jack read the words on the back of the laminated picture he held in his hands.

  DON’T DIE.

  He smirked. I don’t have that much choice in the matter.

  He flipped the photo over and stared down at the smiling, beautiful girl with the sky-blue eyes and blonde hair. He remembered how she tearfully clung to him and whispered those same words in his ear right before he left. He closed his eyes and almost felt her warm breath on his neck. A photographer snapped the picture right when she kissed his cheek and the photo ended up in some national magazine. The teary-eyed girlfriend hugging the tall, handsome soldier made for a good intro on a piece about the war. Both of them looked the part. Jack, the ideal soldier: ruggedly handsome, six foot one, and one hundred ninety-five pounds of solid muscle. She, the all-American beauty: promising to wait for her beau as she proudly saw him off to the battlefield.

  Kelly.

  She laminated the picture and sealed a lock of her hair inside. He played with the corner of the plastic. He wanted to open it and take her hair out and touch it. To feel its softness. To smell her scent. Like a fire extinguisher behind a glass case, he wanted to break it open and put out the ache of missing her that burned in his chest. He closed his eyes and felt the tires bouncing off the ruts as the Humvee raced down the dirt road.

  “Got mine.” Chandler’s deep voice rumbled as he held up a picture. Sweat poured down his smiling face.

  Thin, mousy, and in his late teens, Tech leaned over and pointed at the picture. “Who’re they?” He wiped his glasses.

  Chandler pointed at a large black woman with a huge smile. “That’s my Aunt Haddie.” His finger moved to hover over a tall, attractive black girl with long hair. “That’s my sister Michelle.”

  Mac started to wolf-whistle, but he froze as Chandler’s icy glare ripped into him. “Sorry. Who’s she?” Mac pointed to a short, cute, white girl with a ponytail on top of her head.

  “That’s my other sister, Replacement.”

  Tech’s eyebrow went up. “Ah…she’s white.”

  Chandler shrugged. “So.” He stuck his chin out toward Jack. “He’s my brother and he’s lily-white.”

  Jack grinned.

  Mac scoffed.

  Chandler leaned toward Mac and his huge frame seemed to grow in the tight space. “You got a problem with that?”

  Jack looked away to hide his smile. He knew Chandler was kidding with Mac, but he was also making a point. Chandler saw people, not color.

  “I didn’t…” Mac stammered, “think the Army let brothers serve in the same unit.”

  Chandler leaned back and laughed. “I’m just messing with you. We’re foster brothers.”

  Mac exhaled and looked relieved. “Oh, that explains your little sister.” He pointed. “The white one.”

  “The white one?” Chandler’s jaw tightened.

  Mac’s mouth opened and closed. “Sorry…I…”

  Chandler laughed.

  Mac scowled. “Stop doing that. I couldn’t remember her name. What did you call her? Replacement?”

  “Yeah.” Chandler nodded. “She’s watching over everybody until I get home.”

  Jack stared at his friend. He’s still sending half his pay home. I don’t know how he’s gonna pay for college doing that.

  Tech kicked Jack’s boot. “You never answered. Why do their eyes stay open?”

  Before Jack answered, Mac interrupted, “It’s a stupid question.” Mac shook his head and sweat flew off his face and his thick red hair like a dog after a bath. “They stay open because of muscles or something.”

  “Seriously.” Tech pushed his glasses up and kept going. “You’ve all seen it. Almost everybody dies with their eyes open.”

  “Pansies die with their eyes open.” Butcher looked back from the front passenger seat with a snide smile. “Guess that’s how we’ll find you.”

  Tech went a little paler. “Screw you,” he halfheartedly fired back. “It’s sorta freaky. I was just wondering why.”

  “Maybe it’s because they see something beautiful.” Chandler spoke the words that seemed to hang in the oppressive air in the back of the Humvee.

  Butcher’s eyes narrowed, although his mouth stayed shut. Everyone turned to stare at Chandl
er, but no one dared say anything to the big man—except Jack.

  Jack burst out laughing. “That’s sweet,” he teased his best friend.

  Tech leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Seriously, is that what you think, Chandler? Like beautiful what? Heaven or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mac’s lip curled. “Like clouds and harps and wings?”

  “It’s not like that.” Chandler chuckled.

  “And how do you know?” Butcher glared back.

  Jack looked from his big friend to the faces of all the soldiers. There was a hunger in their eyes for Chandler’s words. They wanted to know. For a soldier, death could happen at any moment and they all had lain awake, wondering what happens after. Here they rode through the valley of the shadow of death each day with the Reaper a constant companion. Now these men looked at Chandler like starving refugees, waiting for him to dish out a meal.

  “If you think about it, God made Eden paradise, but it was still Earth. There were flowers and trees, animals and people. There was no death. It was perfect. Isn’t that Heaven? I think it’ll be like that again, not floating around.”

  They rode along in silence for several minutes, each man lost in his own thoughts. Jack watched the sweat fall from his brow and quickly vanish after it hit the hot metal floor.

  Tech looked up and put his hands on his thighs. “Well, that clinches it. When they find me, I want them to say I died with my eyes open. How about you, Jack? What do you want them to say when they find you?”

  Jack thought for a second and his mouth ticked up in a crooked grin. “When they find me, I want them to say, ‘look, he’s still breathing.’”

  Chandler kicked Jack’s foot and Mac shoved his shoulder. The laughter that filled the Humvee slowly baked off in the roasting heat. The men settled into silence as the lead vehicle of the three-car convoy kicked and bounced down the road.

  Jack looked down the long, straight dirt road and frowned. He hated this stretch. Two steep hills ran along either side. He knew Black Hawks swept the route prior to them arriving and weren’t far away, but he still felt the sweat run down the tight muscles of his broad back.

  The radio crackled on. “Do not answer,” the voice commanded.

  It took Jack a second to recognize Joy’s voice. She spoke at the briefing this morning. The intel analyst was petite and timid, but she stuck her chin out when she got to the front of the room, and her tone was serious as she warned them about the lack of chatter recently. That fact bothered Jack, but the look on Joy’s face made the point, more than her words and the stats did. She was scared, but her fear was for them.

  Everyone looked at the radio. A “do not answer” call when you’re riding through hell always got your attention. “All units in area ten-two-thirty—eyes on. Out.”

  The radio clicked off and Butcher scoffed. “I’m so sick of these stupid intel spooks trying to freak us out, kissing their way up the ladder. The broad’s a suck-up.”

  “Seems like I remember her predicting that attack when we were in Tal Afar pretty accurately,” Jack said.

  “Screw you, Stratton. We get that crap almost every time we go.”

  Jack leaned forward. “Why don’t you keep your eyes ahead?”

  Butcher glared at him for another few seconds before he turned around.

  The Humvee fell into an eerie silence. Jack rechecked his gun. Chandler tried his best to stretch out his legs.

  After a few minutes, Jack slipped sideways and scanned the road ahead. “Hank, did we go by those guys with the cart?”

  Hank leaned forward. “No, we didn’t.”

  Jack saw Hank’s knuckles turn white as he stared down the empty road. We passed three guys with a little cart earlier and now that we’ve turned around, we should’ve seen them by this point. They’re gone. “Punch it,” Jack ordered.

  Hank floored it.

  As the Humvee surged forward, bullets pinged off the side of the vehicle.

  Butcher fumbled for the radio. “Taking fire! Taking fire,” he shrieked.

  Chandler leaned forward and roared, “West side. West side.”

  Jack saw the shell hit directly in front of them. The Humvee slammed into the cloud of rising dirt and stones. He grabbed for the handle as he felt the front end of the Humvee rise into the air.

  Mac shouted as he covered his head. Hank pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, but the Humvee still came through the cloud of dirt at a sharp angle.

  “Hang—” Hank’s words cut off as the Humvee rolled.

  Everything not strapped down went flying everywhere. The ear-piercing sound of metal tearing filled the vehicle. It was as though someone had drained all the water out of a snow globe and then shook it. The soldiers smashed around inside like the pieces. The Humvee crashed into a huge rock as it jolted to a stop.

  Something slammed into Jack’s face and chest and everything went out of focus. Like a fighter who took a hard punch, Jack hung on to the edge of consciousness. He shook his head, struggled to keep his eyes open, and looked around.

  The Humvee’s upright and still on its wheels.

  Groaning, Tech lay crumbled on the floor at Jack’s feet.

  It must have been Tech who smashed into me. Jack lifted his head and then turned to the back of the Humvee. Chandler hadn’t budged, but he was breathing hard. “You good?” Jack asked.

  Chandler nodded.

  Mac held his nose as blood streamed through his fingers. Hank and Butcher were trying to sit up straight. The Humvee had spun around two hundred seventy degrees and landed facing the ridge.

  “Hank.” Jack pulled himself forward and grabbed Hank’s shoulder. “Get us going.”

  Hank turned to look at him and nodded. The left half of his face was already so swollen his eye was closed. He turned the ignition and besides a faint electric hum, the Humvee was silent.

  Think.

  Jack shook his head as he tried to clear his vision and his head. His ears rang and he just wanted to close his eyes and fall into the darkness that pulled at his mind.

  Bullets rained down on them. Jack saw the flashes as the fighters on the ridge fired automatic weapons.

  They’ve got height and line of sight advantage. We get outside and we’re dead. If we stay here, a direct RPG hit and we’re dead.

  Something big blew up outside the left side of the Humvee. The whole vehicle shook and everyone instinctively covered their heads.

  We’re sitting ducks.

  As Jack looked out the shattered windshield up the ridge, everything changed. Huge clouds of dust flew into the air as fire rained down from the sky. Chunks of rock and earth burst upward as shells pounded the hillside. From somewhere high above them, a gunship unloaded more firepower than Jack had ever seen.

  “AC-130!” Mac’s fists shook as he cheered.

  Massive plumes of dirt rose into the air swirled by the wind. Once the shelling stopped, the dust cloud continued to hang over the hillside. They stayed there in silence until they heard the sound as Humvees raced back to them.

  “Man,” Hank shook his head, “if it wasn’t for the 130, we’d all be dead.”

  “Looks like Joy got them to have one watch over us.” Jack exhaled.

  “JACK,” Chandler yelled.

  Everyone turned around. Mac shook violently and his eyes rolled back in his head. His body went rigid and then began to spastically jerk. He fell to the floor as he thrashed.

  “Watch his head,” Jack ordered Chandler.

  Mac suddenly stopped moving.

  Chandler leaned down. “Mac?”

  A bullet casing slowly rolled across the floor. Jack’s heart pounded in his ears. Sweat ran down the side of his face. The casing came to a stop with a faint clink that echoed in the silence.

  Mac gasped for air.

  Jack’s eyes flew open as he flashed back to the present. He lay in bed panting and staring at the ceiling. He let his arms roll out to his sides and didn’t even think about
moving. The nightmares of war always left him like this. Drained. He felt as if he’d been doing sprints after a full workout. Sweat soaked the sheets. He listened to his own breathing slowly even out.

  Mac made it. Tech’s dead. IED. Hank committed suicide. I don’t know about Butcher. Chandler….

  He lay there and stared up into the darkness because he didn’t want to close his eyes. Jack didn’t know whether your eyes stayed open when you died because you caught a glimpse of heaven, but he knew when he closed his, he remembered hell.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Titus

  Jack’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He fumbled to grab it and read the text message from Titus’s secretary, Shawna: GOOD MORNING HONEY. GOT TWO FOR YOU. TITUS NEEDS THEM BROUGHT IN ASAP.

  Jack took a quick shower, got dressed in a black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers and threw open the bedroom door. The snarling beast dashed across the living room, baring its teeth, and barked ferociously. Jack managed to slam the door shut just before the dog reached him.

  Damn it. He let his head fall against the door as he worked to calm his breathing and his heartbeat.

  “Beauty. Sit. Shh. Good girl. Good girl.” He heard Replacement praise the dog.

  “Good girl?” Jack yelled. “How about bad dog? Can you keep that thing—?” Jack ripped open the door.

  The dog lunged forward, barking. Replacement held onto the dog’s collar as the dog dragged her across the floor.

  “SHUT UP,” Jack roared and the dog stopped.

  The two glared at each other as Replacement rubbed her ears. “Wow, you two are loud,” she muttered.

  “We reached a truce last night, Beast, and you better keep it,” Jack grumbled as he stormed by and into the kitchen.

  When she saw the dog had calmed down, Replacement hesitantly let go of the collar and followed Jack. “Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

  “Are you feeling better?” He searched her face.

  “I am.” She nodded.

  They both looked up as the dog trotted down the hallway and into Replacement’s bedroom.

  “Can I make you some eggs?” she offered.

  “No. I’m good. I have to go meet someone.”